Flames
by Lindelea1
Summary: Complete. Ferdibrand Took, bold, brave, but in disgrace because of his past, deserves a story of his own.
1. Prologue

Note to Readers: Here goes another story, cannot believe it, but 'tis true. I was at Regi and Rosa's wedding, and I happened to look over and see Ferdi dancing with one of the Thain's sisters... and of course, after hearing the gossip in "Striking Sparks", as well as his unassuming heroism in Chapter 88 and following chapters of "At the End of His Rope", I thought I would do some digging into his background. And this story is the result...  
  
Please be sure to thank the Muse, if you are so inclined. Her preference runs to pina coladas, but reviews are acceptable payment in kind.  
  
***  
  
Chapter 1. Prologue  
  
He could go no further that night; the dark woods closed around him and there was too much chance of running into ruffians in the darkness. Of late there had been strangers in the Shire, and talk of bad doings over Bywater and Hobbiton-way. Even though he was heading towards the East, away from the troubles, he didn't want to run into any stray trouble. He had trouble enough of his own.  
  
In the dimming light, he hobbled the pony, then gathered wood and kindling and efficiently laid a fire in a scraped-out hollow. Listening intently to the noises around him, he reached into his waistcoat pocket for the flint and steel every adult hobbit worth his salt carried. Something rustled in the underbrush not far away, and he stiffened. A fox, probably. Nothing to worry a grown hobbit. Not loud enough to be one of those clumsy-footed Men who'd been seen about the Shire lately.  
  
He took flint and steel from the little leather pouch and crouched over the wood, ready to strike. A fire would be warming against the chill of the fast-coming evening, cheerful in the gathering gloom, protection against wild creatures, a way to cook a bit of bacon to placate his protesting belly.  
  
His hands were not cooperating. Instead of bringing flint and steel sharply together, they were trembling, refusing to do his bidding. He steadied himself, tried again unsuccessfully. Muttering a curse that would have earned him a reprimand from Thain Paladin, he rested his hands on his knees and took some deep breaths to calm himself.  
  
Taking up flint and steel once again, he tried to ignore the roar of remembered flames, the screams in the back of his head, the horrible stench that had been burned into his memory, that had turned the dance of firelight into nightmare for the rest of his days. To no avail; he could not light the fire to save his life.  
  
Throwing down the useless flint and steel, he sat down on the ground and drew his knees up to his chin, circling them with his arms. He laid his face wearily upon his knees, and waited for the long night to pass. 


	2. Reclamation

Chapter 2. Reclamation  
  
He must have fallen asleep, uncomfortable as he was, for he jerked awake to the sound of crackling flames that blended with the fading nightmare. Looking up, he saw his fire burning merrily, and he rubbed his eyes.  
  
'Wakey, wakey,' an ironic voice said, and he looked past the fire to a shadowy form, sitting, holding a stick with bacon and mushrooms sizzling over the flames.  
  
'Regi?' he said.  
  
'I followed you,' the other replied. 'Wherever d'you think you're going off to?'  
  
There was no good answer to the question, so Ferdibrand contented himself with a shrug.  
  
'Were you following Pippin?' Regi asked, more softly.  
  
Ferdi shrugged again. 'Pippin's dead,' he said flatly. 'Went off with the heir to Buckland and Mad Baggins' heir and his gardener, and got eaten by spooks in the Old Forest, I hear.'  
  
The other rose abruptly, stalked over to him, thrust the stick at him. 'Here,' Reginard Took said curtly. 'I've already et.'  
  
Ferdi took the stick and began to eat. Regi reached into a bag, came out with a hunk of bread, handing it to him without a word, then went back to the other side of the fire and pulled out his pipe.  
  
'I could use you,' Regi said abruptly, when he had the pipe going well.  
  
Ferdi looked up. Use him? He was useless, everyone told him so. But there was no mockery in his cousin's gaze, firelight playing across his features as he puffed his pipe. He wondered what the heir to the Thain wanted him for. Court jester, perhaps?  
  
'You're good with a bow,' Regi added. 'Fast, accurate, very quiet on your feet.' Ferdi nodded. He was all those.  
  
'Thain Paladin wants me to put together a troop. There are too many Men crossing into the Shire, some sort of devilry is at work. 'Tis all that Lotho Baggins' fault, I hear, and Hobbiton's too close to Tookland for comfort.'  
  
He fixed Ferdi with a keen eye. 'You've heard how they've started menacing the farmers?' Ferdi nodded. He'd heard of great oafs of Men striding into a farmstead as if they owned the place, carrying off chickens and pigs and anything else that caught their eye. One farmer who'd stood up to them had ended up down his own well, and he'd nearly drowned before his eldest sons had fished him out again.  
  
Regi puffed on his pipe for a few more minutes, then said, 'We're going to keep them out of Tookland.'  
  
'How're we going to do that?' Ferdi asked.  
  
'There's ways,' Regi said. 'We're not helpless.' He puffed on his pipe. 'Hobbits have dealt with invaders before. These are just wolves walking on two feet.'  
  
'Shoot them?' Ferdi gasped. He used his bow for hunting, true, but... to shoot at a person? Unthinkable.  
  
'They're not hobbits,' Regi said quietly. 'They're Big Folk. And we cannot stand up against them, openly, they're stronger than we are. Thain Paladin says to shoot them, if we have to, to keep them out of Tookland. They've shown no manners in dealing with hobbits, the Thain says they deserve none in return.'  
  
Ferdi nodded. He'd not seen a Man, yet, but had heard they were twice the size of hobbits.  
  
'I need you,' Regi said. 'You've a good eye, a stout arm, and you can shoot better'n anyone I know. Will you come back to the Smials?'  
  
Ferdi looked him in the eye for a long moment, then nodded. 'Aye,' he said. 'I'll come back with you.' 


	3. Heir

Chapter 3. Heir to the Thain  
  
They rode most of the way back to the Smials in silence. Ferdi occasionally looked over at the other. For one who was now the second most powerful Took in the Shire, Reginard did not look happy. Certainly, he rode with his shoulders as straight as ever, head high, eyes moving to take in every detail around him... but his face was settled into the grimmest lines Ferdi had seen. Regi had always been a little distant, anyhow, someone to look up to, being more than a dozen years older. He did not have the hair-trigger temper of his younger brother Everard, being somewhat tempered by time and the responsibility of being the oldest brother.  
  
As they rode into Tuckborough, Regi glanced over, as if aware of Ferdi's scrutiny, and the younger hobbit dropped his eyes. When he looked up again, he saw the other smile slightly, give a tiny nod--of encouragement?--before turning his eyes back to the fields on the other side of the road. Ferdi straightened his shoulders a bit, in unconscious imitation.  
  
Ferdi saw Reginard stiffen as they rode into the courtyard before the Great Smials. Following his gaze, he saw two figures twice the size of hobbits loitering outside the Smials. 'What're they doing here?' he heard the other mutter. They rode to the stable entrance and jumped down from their ponies' backs. 'Put him away for me?' Regi said, tossing the reins to Ferdibrand.  
  
'Aye, and don't burn down the stables while you're about it,' drawled another Took who was coming out.  
  
Regi swung to face him. 'That joke might have been funny the first hundred times I heard it, Hilly, though I rather doubt it...' He fixed the other with a fierce glare. '...so I'd suggest you find yourself another joke, or close your mouth and shoot the bolt.'  
  
Hildibold straightened up and said, ' 'Twere only a joke, Regi, no need to-- '  
  
He was interrupted by his brother Tolibold, who came from the shadows to hiss, 'Regi, Pimple's here to see the Thain with two of his overgrown oafs, you should have seen his expression as he walked in, as if he owned the place. He looks like the cat that got the cream. I don't like this.'  
  
'Has anybody got weapons?' Regi asked.  
  
Tolly shook his head. 'Can't get in nor out of the Smials, those oafs of his have their eye on all the doors.'  
  
'Right,' Regi said. 'Good thing Ferdi and I were out hunting. String your bow, Ferdi.'  
  
Ferdi took bow and quiver from his saddle and was quickly ready. He and Regi marched across the courtyard to the Smials, Tolly and Hilly behind them, just as the door to the main entrance opened and Lotho Baggins measured his length in the dust, having been tossed through the door by two muscular Tooks. Thain Paladin appeared in the doorway.  
  
'And don't you be coming round here any more with any of your nonsense,' the Thain said, his anger almost palpable in the crisp morning air. 'The Shire already has a Thain.'  
  
One of the Men had helped Lotho up, and Lotho brushed himself off, straightened his clothes, then threw back his shoulders and stood tall. The effect was rather marred by the way the Man standing beside him dwarfed him, but he didn't seem to notice.  
  
'You don't have an heir,' Lotho said. 'And you need one. With my money and your power...'  
  
'I have an heir,' Paladin snapped.  
  
'Give over,' Lotho said, trying to look sympathetic. 'Your son is dead. He's never coming back again. What'll the Shire do if something happens to you?'  
  
'I have an heir,' Paladin answered. He gestured towards the group of hobbits who'd come from the stables and were standing warily nearby, watching the scene. 'Reginard is the next in line for the Thainship.'  
  
Reginard bowed ironically, but Ferdibrand stiffened at the expression that crossed Lotho's face before he wiped it clear of expression, leaving it once more smooth and bland. 'Congratulations, Reginard,' Lotho said silkily. 'I had not heard of your elevation to heir.'  
  
Regi jerked his chin in a nod. Seeing the two Tooks with their bows ready and arrows at hand, Lotho decided that, discretion being the best part of valour, he and his assistants would depart.  
  
Turning back to Paladin, he said, 'Think about my offer. With my money...'  
  
'Tookland doesn't need your money,' Paladin answered shortly. 'And keep your great oafs out of Tookland if you know what's good for them. Their sort aren't welcome here.'  
  
'Very well,' Lotho sneered. 'Keep well, Paladin. Be a shame if anything should happen to you, as it did to your son.' He mounted the pony that the silent stable lad had brought out, jerked the beast's head around, and rode out of the courtyard, his Men slouching along behind him.  
  
Thain Paladin looked to Reginard and Ferdibrand, standing ready with their bows. 'Nice work,' he said. 'From now on, we will keep armed guards at the ready both inside and outside the Smials. 'We had better arm the guards at the stables and storeholes as well, just in case someone gets some funny ideas.'  
  
'Yes, Sir,' Regi said. 'I'll see to it right away.'  
  
The Thain's cold eyes turned to Ferdibrand. 'Good thing the two of you were out hunting,' he said. 'Though it seems as if you've had rather poor luck.'  
  
'Too many Men wandering about, Sir,' Ferdi answered. 'They make such a noise they scare all the game for miles.'  
  
'Men wandering about Tookland?' Paladin said sharply, then gave a jerk of his chin. 'We'll soon put a stop to that.' He turned back into the Smials.  
  
'Regi,' Ferdi said in an urgent undertone, 'Did you see how Pimple looked at him... and at you? He's gone mad.'  
  
'What're you talking about?' Regi said irritably. 'You sound like an old auntie, worrying away.'  
  
'All that has to happen is some mishap while the Thain is riding along with you, and he...'  
  
'None of your nonsense, now, lad,' Regi said. 'Go make sure the ponies were properly put away.'  
  
'But, Regi!' Ferdi protested.  
  
'Check on the ponies,' Reginard snapped. He hated to repeat himself. 'And then go and get yourself some second breakfast. There's work to be done.'  
  
Ferdi met Tolly's sober eyes, and the other nodded. He'd seen it as well. Lotho Baggins had something in mind for the Thain and his heir, and it boded no good. Ferdi began to wonder if Pippin's disappearance had been by accident, or by Lotho's design.  
  
He shook his head. No use indulging in wild fancies. There was the present to deal with, and reality. The one thing he knew for sure, he was going to stick to Reginard like cockleburrs to a pony's tail. 


	4. News

Chapter 4. News  
  
The hobbits of Tuckborough stood on the banks of the stream that flowed past Tuckborough, watching the last light fade from the sky. Thain Paladin nodded, and Reginard stepped to his side to light the torch the Thain held. Eglantine stood next to her husband, and their three daughters stood on his other side. He lifted the torch high, and spoke.  
  
'We gather together for remembering, as is our custom on this day. We remember those who have been lost to us since the last time we gathered so. We are here to celebrate their lives, their memory, our love which can never be lost, and the hope we share.'  
  
Paladin handed the torch to Reginard, and held out his hands to his wife. Eglantine gently placed a cloth-wrapped bundle in his hands, undid the cloth to reveal an exquisitely carved tiny boat, the centre hollowed out and filled with wick and beeswax. The Thain dropped the cloth upon the ground and cradled the boat tenderly for a moment, before turning to Regi, to light the tall, stiffly-waxed wick.  
  
His wife and daughters stepped forward to lay hands upon the boat, and the family stood in silence for a few breaths, before Paladin whispered the name of his son. He looked to his wife; 'Pippin,' sobbed Eglantine. Pearl, Pimpernel, and Pervinca each softly spoke their brother's name, and as their father turned to the stream, they embraced their mother and let their tears mingle. The Thain bent to the waters, gently launched the boat, and stood again to take the torch from Reginard.  
  
One by one, hobbits stepped up to light a boat-candle, murmur a lost loved one's name, set the boat upon the flowing water, to be carried to the Brandywine and on down to the Sea.  
  
When all had finished and most had started back to the Smials for the Remembering Day feast, Ferdibrand still stood, cradling his own boat. The Thain waited, holding the torch.  
  
'Ferdi?' Regi said. 'Do you want me to light it for you?'  
  
Ferdibrand shook his head, forced himself to step forward, to hold the boat out, teeth gritted. Paladin dipped the torch quickly, and the wick flared. Ferdi knelt in the mud by the stream, holding his boat a moment longer, reluctant to say this farewell, but finally, he whispered, 'Good-bye, Pip. You should have taken me with you; I'd have helped you fight those spooks.' He laid the little boat in the water and watched it float after the others.  
  
A hand appeared before him and he looked up to see the face of Pippin's father. The Thain had heard the soft words. 'Come, lad,' he said, his own grief now plain on his face. 'We've done all we can for him.' Ferdi took the proffered hand and allowed Paladin to help him to his feet, nodded his thanks. Thain Paladin put an arm about Ferdi's shoulders and walked heavily up the path to the Smials.  
  
***  
  
A cloaked figure waited in a dark corner of the Crowing Cockerel, nursing a mug of the best beer on the Stock Road. He didn't look up as Regi and Ferdi slid into chairs at the table, but took a deep pull at his beer and waited in silence.  
  
'What news from Buckland?' Regi muttered.  
  
The other raised his head just enough for them to see his eyes peer from under the hood. 'More ruffians arriving each day, from up the Greenway, I hear tell. They're all over Bree, and if Bucklanders didn't already have locks on their doors they'd have stolen everything that wasn't nailed down. Word from the Marish says some are settling in Woody End, and they're moving West.'  
  
Regi digested this news, and nodded. 'News from Southfarthing has them coming up from Sarn Ford. They're building sheds in Waymeet, from what I hear, and there are quite a few in Hobbiton and Bywater, at Pimple Baggin's invitation.'  
  
'Any in Tuckborough yet?'  
  
'We've managed to scare them off thus far, with bows and snares. They do not like stepping in our snares for some reason,' Regi said, and Ferdi snorted. He had become quite adept at laying traps and snares along the ruffians' accustomed paths, and not a few ruffians had spent some hours hanging downside-up from a tree limb before their fellows had come upon them.  
  
'Keeping them out of Tookland completely?' the other said with respect. 'I wish we could say the same in Buckland.' He eyed the other two. 'Does the Thain have plans for dealing with Lotho and throwing his new friends out of the Shire?'  
  
Regi shook his head. 'The Shire has lived in peace too long. Paladin knows that Tookland will follow his lead, but the rest? Only if the people unite will they be able to stand against Big Men. Things may be a bit uncomfortable at present, but I think they'll have to get a sight worse before the sparks can be coaxed into a flame. Hobbits are good at sitting tight and enduring, too good at it, mayhap.' He sipped at his own beer. 'How about the Master?'  
  
The other shook his head. 'Did you hear about those farmsteads in the Marish? Saradoc is going carefully, he doesn't want to see anyone else hurt, and Buckland alone is not enough to banish all these ruffians from the Shire, and more coming every day...'  
  
'Farmsteads?' Ferdi asked.  
  
'A farmer stood up to some of Lotho's Men who'd come to carry off his livestock, his neighbors came to his aid, they drove the ruffians away, all right.' His voice was bitter. 'And that night, that farm and all its near neighbors burned. Five families, homeless, lost everything. Lucky they didn't lose their lives.'  
  
There was a general shaking of heads all around. 'And how long is the Thain going to be able to hold off these thieving Men with threats and mischief? One of these days, someone's going to call your bluff, and it's either shoot, or let Tookland be overrun with these vermin.'  
  
'Shoot,' Ferdi echoed, feeling sick.  
  
Regi nodded. 'Neither alternative is all that appealing,' he said. 'We'll bake that bread when it's risen.'  
  
The Bucklander took another sip of his beer. 'Word is, the Thain mourned his son's passing on Remembering Day.'  
  
'Aye,' Regi said heavily. 'How's the Master dealing with his loss?'  
  
'He refused to mourn,' the other answered. 'He says until he sees his son's body, he will consider him alive.'  
  
'Hard knocks on the Bucklanders,' Ferdi said, 'if he refuses to name a successor.'  
  
'Ah, well,' the other said softly. 'If need be, Bucklanders know who'll be Master should anything happen to Saradoc. And it won't be Pimple Baggins, either.'  
  
'Who, then?' Ferdi asked. He didn't know how the Bucklanders ordered their affairs, but he knew some things were different. Had Meriadoc left a son, even an infant, the child would have become Master at thirty-three, with a regent holding the land for him until his coming of age. Not so amongst the Tooks. It didn't matter, anyhow, as Pippin had left no heir. Regi would be Thain in any event, and if anything happened to him, the succession would pass to his brother Everard. Ferdi was next in the succession after Everard, but his becoming Thain was about as likely as the coming of the King.  
  
'Him,' Reginard answered shortly, and from his tone, Ferdi took warning. He saw the eyes in the face crinkle, and realised the other was smiling, but the answering voice was grim.  
  
'Indeed, and with all the odd things happening, let us not spread the news that the successor is out and about, shall we?' Merimac took another gulp of his beer.  
  
'Odd things?' Regi murmured low.  
  
The other fixed him with a stern eye. 'Has it not struck you that the heir to Buckland, the heir to Tookland, and the heir to the richest hobbit in the Shire all disappeared on the same day? Never mind that the latter wasn't exactly an heir anymore, he'd inherited. I still have trouble believing he came to the end of Bilbo's money. Anyhow, he's gone, with the rest.' He let the thought sink in, then said, 'I'd watch my back, were I you, Reginard. You're in the same boat as myself.'  
  
Regi shuddered at the thought of being in any boat at all. 'What are you getting at?'  
  
'Keep your eyes open. If something happens to the Mayor, well, I figure it is only a matter of time before the Master and the Thain have some sort of mishap. But enough of such pleasant thoughts. What other news do you have?' Merimac asked.  
  
'Lotho has continued to ship full waggons Southwards, even with winter coming on. The Thain could not buy his usual annual supply of pipe-weed in South Farthing, this year; it seems someone else has bought it all up and shipped it South.'  
  
The Bucklander snorted softly. 'Yes, I've heard of waggons full of Men coming to the Shire, but they aren't going away empty; they're taking the life-blood of the Shire, not just pipe-weed, but food! Some parts are going short already, I hear, not Buckland, not yet, anyhow...'  
  
'Nor Tookland, either, though the ruffians are getting bolder,' Regi said. He looked up sharply as another hobbit entered and walked softly to their dark corner, sitting down, waving away the mug the hobbit lass brought him. When they were alone again, Regi hissed, 'I thought I told you to keep watch outside, Tolly.'  
  
Tolly bent forward, whispering. 'No Men in sight at present, and I left Hilly watching. News came in just now, one of our folk who'd ridden into Bywater for market day--' he snorted. Market day. A few scanty offerings, whatever the ruffians hadn't already stolen.  
  
'What?' Regi said impatiently.  
  
'They've taken old Will Flourdumpling. He went to Bag End to protest the way Pimple's Men caroused during Yuletide, drunken sods, breaking things and bringing ruination--they broke out all the windows in the Green Dragon, you know.'  
  
'What about the Mayor, Tolly?' Regi said. 'He went to Bag End...'  
  
'Aye,' Tolly said, 'started off, anyhow, but never arrived. Ruffians grabbed him, threw him into one of the storage holes over to Michel Delving. They're calling them "Lockholes" now, and threatening to lock up anyone else who stands against them.'  
  
'Locked up?' Ferdi felt sick. Certainly, hobbits lived in holes, but they didn't spend their lives there. To be trapped in a hole beneath the earth, unable to see the sky, smell the fresh breeze...  
  
'Aye,' Tolly said grimly. 'Now there's no Mayor, and Pimple's declared himself Chief Shirriff or some such nonsense.'  
  
'No Mayor...' Regi said, stunned.  
  
'Watch your back, Regi,' Merimac said again, then drained his mug and stood up, tossing a coin on the table. 'And a very merry Yule to you, as well.' 


	5. Coincidents

5. Co-incidents  
  
The Thain was taking his usual morning ride, escort in tow, at a nice, easy canter, when the pony suddenly stumbled and went down. Regi, who had pulled up to comment to Tolly, kneed his pony into a run, only to have his own pony go down, Regi throwing himself free just in time. Ferdi pulled his own pony to a stop, the rest of the escort following suit, and slid from his saddle, to run to the fallen hobbits. He stepped in a hole and measured his length in the grassy path. As he pushed himself up, his right hand found another hole, and he suddenly realised what had happened.  
  
'Leave the ponies,' he shouted back. 'The footing's treacherous.' Cautiously, he picked his way to Reginard. 'Regi,' he said, urgently. 'Reg, d'you hear me?'  
  
Reginard groaned, and Ferdi helped him to a sitting position on the grass. The fallen hobbit grabbed at his right arm with the other. 'Something's not right,' he gasped. Tolly reached them, and Ferdi said, 'Can you splint his arm? I've got to check on the Thain.'  
  
'I'm all right,' Regi said. 'Better'n the pony, any road, I think he must've broken his neck.' He shook his head, and Ferdi saw that White Socks was lying unnaturally still.  
  
Ferdi rose and stumbled to Paladin's side. 'Sir?' he called softly.  
  
The Thain's eyes opened, and he looked at Ferdi, confused. 'Where am I?' he said. 'What's happened?'  
  
'You took a spill,' Ferdi said. 'Just lie still, Sir, until we sort things out.' At least Paladin's pony was on its feet, though obviously badly lamed.  
  
Hilly came up to them. 'Holes,' he said grimly. 'Holes dug all the way acrost the path, and some ways along.'  
  
'An outbreak of moles?' Ferdi said.  
  
The other snorted. 'Moles dug all these holes in one night? We rode this path just yesterday.'  
  
'You're thinking...' Ferdi said, as the implication struck. 'Someone did this? Someone dug these holes a-purpose?'  
  
'Ferdi, you're either dull of wit, or you had something to do with this,' Hilly said nastily. 'Of course these holes were dug a-purpose. Look at how the holes are hid in the grass, and the dirt's been carried away... Moles would have left some sign.' He looked suspiciously at Ferdibrand. 'Where were you last night? Did you think to do some kind of mischief, not thinking it through, just like the last time?'  
  
'Never!' Ferdi said hotly.  
  
'You weren't at the singing last night,' Tolly said, coming up to them, supporting Regi, bad arm splinted with sticks hastily cut from a tree to one side of the path.  
  
'He's never at the singing,' Regi said quietly. 'Not when there's a fire upon the hearth.'  
  
Ferdi looked at him gratefully, but the other's face was grim. 'This is more malice than mischief, I think,' Regi added. 'Whoever did this didn't mind laming or killing ponies... or hobbits, for that matter.'  
  
Tolly eased him down next to the Thain, who'd closed his eyes again. 'I don't think he's broken any limbs,' Ferdi said. 'At least, I couldn't feel any breaks. But he might well have hit his head. He doesn't know where he is, or what happened.'  
  
'Sir?' Regi said. The Thain groaned in reply. 'Hilly,' Regi said urgently, 'lead your pony well out of the bad ground and ride to the Smials for a healer and litter.' The other nodded and picked his way back to his pony, and carefully led the beast some ways before mounting and kicking it into a run.  
  
'Regi,' the Thain said, opening his eyes again.  
  
'I'm here, Sir,' Reginard answered.  
  
'How's Snipnose? We took a spill?'  
  
'Aye, Sir, the ground here's bad, he stepped in a hole, but he's putting a bit of weight on that leg. I don't think it's broken.'  
  
'Ah,' Paladin said. Ferdi moved to shade him from the sun, which had risen enough to be shining in his eyes, and he added, 'Thanks, lad, very thoughtful.'  
  
'Tolly,' Regi said, 'Go over the ground. Find all the holes you can. I want to know if there's a pattern.'  
  
'You don't think 'twas moles,' Ferdibrand said.  
  
'Moles, perhaps, if moles walk upon two feet,' Regi answered grimly. They waited in silence until the rescue party came from the Smials, easing the Thain onto the litter, carrying him carefully across the tricky ground, and then back to the Smials, a mile or so away.  
  
Ferdi urged Reginard to ride his own pony, while he elected to walk the Thain's limping pony slowly back to the stables. He had a lot of thinking to do.  
  
He had to put up with suspicious looks and mutterings behind his back when he reached the Great Smials, and it was all he could do to keep from issuing denials, which, he felt, would have made him appear even more guilty. He helped Old Tom, head of the stable hobbits, to treat the pony's leg, and thus was able to bring a hopeful report to the Thain, who was resting in his bed, more alert now, but still under the healers' watchful eyes.  
  
The next day, Reginard sought him out. 'I want you to take a ride with me,' he said.  
  
Ferdi looked at his splinted arm in its sling, and back to Regi's face. 'You want to take a ride? Are you in any kind of shape?' he asked.  
  
'I'm fine,' Regi snapped. He had been warding off the healers since early breakfast.  
  
Ferdi misinterpreted his searching glance, saying bitterly, 'You sure you're safe, riding with me?'  
  
Regi snorted. 'I was about to ask you the same question,' he said. 'Had we been riding all together, more than two ponies would have gone down yesterday.' The Thain had cantered a little ahead of his escort, to gain a bit of quiet for thought, as he often did in that part of the path, when the mishap occurred.  
  
'Riding with you?' Ferdi said stupidly. 'You mean, you think...?'  
  
'I think there might have been something to Merimac's warning after all. In any event, a message came this morning, to meet him at the Cockerel today. We can let him know what nearly happened to the Thain, and heir to Tookland. He ought to find it of interest. Will you ride with me?'  
  
'Aye,' Ferdi said.  
  
'Good,' Reginard replied. 'We'll take Tolly and Hilly as well. The Thain won't need an escort this day, I doubt the healers will let him up out of his bed.'  
  
It was not a comfortable ride; Tolly looked at Ferdi with troubled eyes, and Hilly with outright suspicion in his gaze, but both held their peace before Reginard.  
  
Reaching the Crowing Cockerel, they stabled their ponies and Regi and Ferdi went in, to sit in their usual corner, sipping beer while they waited. The other two Tooks remained outside, to watch for Men. The Cockerel was just outside the boundaries of Tookland, and Men came occasionally to sample the best beer on the Stock road. Thus far they had been fairly civil, and their silver was as good as anyone's, as far as the landlord was concerned.  
  
It was not long before the familiar cloaked figure slipped into the room and joined them.  
  
'I was watching for you from the woods,' Merimac said. He took a gulp of his beer as if he needed it to steady him. 'What happened to you?'  
  
'Had a little mishap with a pony,' Regi said casually. He and Ferdi were surprised at the other's reaction. Merimac stiffened and leaned forward, speaking in a whisper.  
  
'Mishap?'  
  
'Aye.'  
  
'Are you sure it was a mishap?' the other demanded, still whispering. Regi met the intense gaze, and gave the slightest shake of the head.  
  
The other nodded, satisfied, and said in a very low voice that the others had to strain to hear, 'There's been a mishap in Buckland, as well.'  
  
'What?' Regi said, leaning forward.  
  
'Someone put a cockleburr under the Master's saddle pad whilst he was fishing at his usual stream,' Merimac muttered. 'He was lucky--all he broke was his leg. The pony went mad as soon as he mounted, there in the wood, and I thought he'd be killed for certain...'  
  
He sipped again at his beer. 'It's getting harder to get away, and creep through,' he said. 'I don't know how much longer we'll be able to trade news. But... remember how I told you to watch your back?'  
  
Regi nodded silently.  
  
'I'd say, better keep watch on all sides, from now on,' Merimac said soberly. Abruptly he rose, placed a coin softly on the table, and slipped from the room. 


	6. Guilty

Warning: Because of content, this chapter should probably be rated PG.   
  
Musings: What did hobbits do about anti-social behaviour? Obviously, hobbits have their foibles, some were not very pleasant people, were they? But they didn't appear to have jails, at least until the ruffians turned the store-holes into Lockholes. I did a lot of thinking about this and finally concluded that the hobbits might have had some sort of judgment and punishment... so hypothesised that milder forms of anti-social behaviour might be punished by some sort of shunning, length of time determined by seriousness of offence. Social creatures that they are, this could be a very serious consequence!   
  
"No hobbit has ever deliberately killed another", I think it says in "Scouring of the Shire". But what if a hobbit takes leave of his senses, and has the capacity to harm others? What do you do when mischief crosses the line into malice? I solved this problem (in my head, anyhow), by creating a seldom-invoked punishment of exile from the Shire. Do not know if this fits into canon or not, but it makes some sort of sense to me, anyhow. Ah, well.   
  
***  
  
**6. Guilty**  
  
The night before the annual Tookland Pony Races, there was always a large bonfire not far from the racetrack, with singing and roasting of various foodstuffs and general jollity. Ferdi took himself off after the feast, as the bonfire was about to be lighted, and walked in the comforting darkness beneath the stars and waxing moon.  
  
He heard a burst of laughter from the firepit behind him, but had no desire to join the party. He could enjoy the singing as well from here, where he did not have to see and hear the flames.  
  
He found himself wandering around the edge of the track, and was nearly to the far side when his attention was caught by movement he saw from the corner of his eye. Stopping, he looked intently into the darkness, to see a crouching figure in the soft dirt of the track.  
  
Moving as softly as only a hobbit can, he crept nearer, slipping through the rails, coming up behind the figure which he could see now was a hobbit, crouching on the track's surface, busy at... something. As he came up behind the hobbit, he could see a gleam in the moonlight... and then he stepped in a hole, and stumbled. The other was up instantly, flinging something that struck Ferdi sharply in the forehead, then turning to flee, only to stumble in another hole, and this stopped him just long enough for Ferdi to catch him.  
  
'Guards!' he shouted. 'Guards!' The other struggled in his grasp, then, as if realising he was well and truly caught, stood still. Ferdi saw something gleaming on the ground at their feet, and without loosing his hold of the other, stooped to pick it up. It was a trowel. Ferdi could hear answering shouts, and pounding feet approaching, and he saw hobbits with torches rapidly coming closer. Just as they reached the fence rail, the other hobbit twisted in his grasp as a wrestler will, not trying to get away, which Ferdi was ready for, but instead taking Ferdi in a firm headlock and throwing him to the ground.  
  
'I've got him!' the other shouted. 'I've got him! Help me!' Ferdi was too stunned at this turn of events to speak, until suddenly he felt hands jerk his arms behind his back, a rope firmly binding him, and he was hauled to his feet. 'Look!' the other said excitedly. 'He dropped that trowel, there, at his feet! Careful, the track is riddled with holes; he must have been busy digging since the bonfire started.'  
  
'No!' Ferdi protested. 'No, that's not true! He's telling lies!' He looked into the grim faces around them. 'No!' he shouted desperately.  
  
'Shut his mouth for him,' the Thain said wearily, and one of the guards shoved a cloth into his mouth and bound it behind his head. He tried to protest through the gag, but only a whisper of sound resulted.   
  
Rough hands grasped him from both sides, and Hilly's voice hissed in his ear, 'So _you're_ the mole! I always knew it!'  
  
'You'll have your say after we hear from the witnesses,' the Thain said. 'Hold your peace.'  
  
Ferdi forced himself to relax in the restraining hands, though he was breathing hard. His thoughts were racing. Would they believe him?  
  
'Take him to the great room,' the Thain said. 'We'll sort all this out there.' Ferdi was hauled along roughly between Hilly and Tolly, other hobbits joining the procession, chattering excitedly.  
  
In the great room, all the lamps were lighted and the room was quickly set up for the judging. The Thain and Regi sat soberly behind the head table, Ferdi held between his guards before them, a crowd of hobbits looking on, whispering. Ferdi looked to Regi, surely he did not believe that Ferdi would do this terrible thing... and Regi's face registered his shock and disbelief. At least one person there might hear him.  
  
The Thain rose to address him. 'Ferdibrand Took, you stand accused of mischief with malice to cause bodily harm.' Ferdi could only shake his head, and Paladin looked back at him grimly before turning to the crowd. 'I call for witnesses. Who would bring this charge against him?'  
  
Nibs Clayburrow, the middle son of Old Tom the head hobbit of the Thain's stables stepped forward. 'I do!' he said. It was the voice of the hobbit Ferdi had surprised at the track. Ferdi squirmed in his bonds only to be jerked roughly to order by his guards.  
  
Thain Paladin nodded. 'Go on,' he said heavily.  
  
Excitedly, Nibs gave his testimony. 'I was out walking, checking the track, you know... with the races tomorrow, I wanted to make sure all was ready.'  
  
Old Tom nodded, his eyes shining, proud of his younger son's initiative. He would have expected such from his eldest, but that lad had been singing at the bonfire.  
  
'I suddenly saw _him_,' he pointed to Ferdi, 'crouched over, like, with something in his hand that shone in the moonlight. Just then I stumbled, and I knew-- I knew he was digging holes in the track, on the far side where they wouldn't be seen, and the riders going too fast to notice anything amiss...'  
  
There was a growl from the crowd, and Ferdi shook his head again, desperately.  
  
'I jumped him! ...and yelled for the guard, and, well, that's all,' he said.  
  
'Is there a second witness?' Paladin said. A hobbit could not be convicted of a crime on the testimony of a single witness, after all. Ferdi held his breath. There could not be a second witness, for the incident had not happened as Nibs had described. Soon they would remove the gag and he could defend himself. It would be Nibs' word against his, and surely the Thain was wise enough to judge between the two of them.  
  
Hilly spoke up from beside him. 'I saw the trowel in his hand,' he said.   
  
Ferdi's eyes widened, and again he shook his head. He saw the disbelief on Regi's face fading to sorrow, and anger. 'No,' he whispered, but no sound came through the gag.  
  
The crowd murmured angrily, and Ferdi heard snatches. '...caught with the trowel in his hand.'  
  
'What kind of hobbit would...?'  
  
'That's not mischief! Someone could have been killed!'  
  
'My lad was to ride in the first race...'  
  
The Thain raised a quelling hand, and the crowd quieted again.  
  
'Ferdibrand Took, we have heard two witnesses testify against you, and hard evidence found in your own hand that shows you to be guilty as charged.' Ferdi stood very still, scarcely breathing.  
  
'We ought to bind, blind and cast him out,' Nibs said, and there was a mutter of agreement from the crowd. 'Anyone who'd set out a-purpose to lame good ponies, risking hobbits' necks...'  
  
Hilly hissed in Ferdi's ear, 'Well, cousin, you've managed to avoid getting burned for some years now, but you won't escape the brand on the morrow, now, will you?' Ferdi stared desperately into Regi's eyes, but the other looked away. They were not going to believe him, he realised. They had the word of two witnesses, and the trowel in his hand. They would believe nothing he said in his own defence.  
  
Nibs went on eagerly, 'Why, I wouldn't be surprised if he was the one done it before! He's the mole that dug the holes on the bridle path between the cherry trees, nearly killed the Thain!' There was another angry murmur from the crowd.  
  
The Thain, however, stood very still, his head tilted slightly as if listening to a distant horn call. 'What did you say?' he asked quietly.  
  
'I said, he's the mole!' Nibs said stoutly.  
  
Thain Paladin's eyes swept the crowd, coming at last to rest on Ferdibrand. He said slowly, as if it hardly mattered, 'How did you know where the holes were dug on the path?'  
  
'O, I don't know,' Nibs said carelessly. 'I heard it somewheres, I guess.'  
  
The Thain's eyes moved from Ferdi to his accuser. 'Only a handful of hobbits knew where I took my fall,' he said. 'And I know they would have held their tongues.'  
  
Nibs was uncertain now, but gamely said, 'It must have been my Da, aye, that must have been where I heard it.'  
  
Paladin looked to Old Tom, who was shaking his head. Sadly, he said to his son, 'I never knew, lad. They did not tell me, and they filled in the holes before they left the path so that no one would suffer a similar mishap.'  
  
The Thain looked to Regi. 'Did you tell?' he asked. Regi shook his head. Paladin's eyes moved to Tolly and Hilly, flanking Ferdi. 'And you?' he asked quietly. They both shook their heads, and Hilly dropped Ferdi's arm as if it had burned him.  
  
Thain Paladin looked then to Healer Woodruff, a middle-aged hobbit matron with apple cheeks and brown curls. 'Did you say anything to anyone?' he asked quietly. She slowly shook her head, her eyes snapping.  
  
The Thain then said to Tolly, 'Remove the gag.' The guard fumbled at the knot, and Ferdi spat out the cloth as soon as he felt it loosen. The Thain met his eyes squarely. 'Did you tell anyone where the mishap occurred?'  
  
'No, Sir,' Ferdi said.  
  
The Thain nodded. 'Right, then,' he said. 'Let me hear your tale.'  
  
Quietly and without drama, Ferdi told how he had been walking, had seen the figure, confronted Nibs, how the other had thrown the trowel at him and tried to run. The Thain nodded, seeing the mark on Ferdi's face where the trowel had struck him, a bruise and trickle of blood. 'Go on,' he said. Ferdi described how he'd shouted for the guards, how the other had thrown him down and claimed to have seen Ferdi digging the holes.  
  
'And that is all,' he said. 'You know the rest.'  
  
'It's a lie!' Nibs shouted.  
  
The Thain turned cold eyes on him. 'Do we need to gag you?' he said.  
  
'No,' Nibs subsided.  
  
The Thain stared at him for a few breaths, then said, 'Take him.' Two burly Tooks stepped up to take hold of Ferdi's accuser. Paladin turned his head to Tolly and Hilly, still flanking Ferdi. 'You know what to do,' he said. Tolly nodded, began to fumble with Ferdi's bindings, then took out his knife and cut Ferdi free. Ferdi brought his hands before him, rubbing his wrists.  
  
Thain Paladin took a deep breath, swept the crowd with his gaze, then fronted the trembling Nibs. 'You stand convicted by your own words,' he said quietly. 'You could not have known where the holes were dug on the path, unless you had dug them yourself. Ferdibrand has the mark of the trowel on his forehead, which can only have happened if his story is the true one.'  
  
Ferdi took a deep, shuddering breath. The Thain was about to pronounce judgment, a judgment he had only narrowly escaped.  
  
'You stand convicted of mischief with malicious intent to harm,' Paladin continued, 'and you have compounded your crime by bearing false witness.' Nibs' eyes were wide. 'You know the penalty for this...' Nibs shook his head, mouth open, breathing shallowly.  
  
'You spoke your own sentence,' the Thain continued implacably. 'On the morrow, with the rising of the Sun, we are to bind, blind, and cast you out of the Shire. Should you ever seek to return, every hand will be against you. None may offer you food, or shelter, or comfort of any sort. Your name will be stricken from the Book, and will never be spoken within the Bounds of the Shire again.'  
  
Nibs twisted in the grip of the restraining hands, turning desperately to his parents. 'Da!' he pleaded.  
  
Old Tom looked at his son, face bleak. He shook his head. 'I have one son less this day,' he said sadly. Beside him, his wife collapsed, sobbing, and he helped her from the room, the crowd parting silently to let them pass.  
  
***  
  
The next morning at dawn, a small crowd of hobbits gathered in the courtyard to watch the sentence carried out. A brazier had been lit earlier, and the coals were now very hot, an iron thrust into their midst. Guards dragged the prisoner forward and forced him down. The Thain took the iron from the coals, and held it out to Ferdi.  
  
'It is your right,' he said. 'He accused you falsely. He would have seen this done to you.'  
  
Ferdi shook his head. Let the Tooks continue to think him a coward, he could not do this thing. The Thain nodded. 'Very well,' he said. 'Hold him.' Reluctantly, Ferdi joined the guards who were holding Nibs still. The brand was to mark his cheek, to identify him forever as outcast from the Shire, but the guards held him so that he might not move at the wrong moment and be accidentally blinded, a small mercy.  
  
Old Tom stepped forward. 'I'll do it,' he said quietly. He took the iron, looking down at his son a last time. Ferdi looked away, but could not escape the awful sound, and the smell, that smell that took him back in memory and nightmare. His hands tightened on the other until the deed was done.  
  
The Thain tied the bag around the prisoner's head, the traditional blindfold, and they lifted him onto a pony, then the escort mounted as well. Regi had protested strongly, urging the Thain to stay safely in Tuckborough and not ride out of Tookland, but Paladin had reminded him of his duty.  
  
'I pronounced judgment, I must carry out the sentence,' Paladin said. 'I will ride with him to the Border and see him cast out. It is his right, and my duty. A few ruffians will not make me hide from it.'  
  
They rode through the day and into the night. Whenever they stopped to take food or water, one of the guards would feed Nibs, or lift a bottle to his mouth. No one spoke to him, of course, and conversation amongst the escort was scanty as well. Grimly they continued the journey, stopping in the middle night for a rest, rising again at dawn.  
  
Because the Ruffians watched the roads, they travelled across field and farmland until they reached the border of the Shire. Dismounting, the Thain said, 'Finish it.'  
  
The guards lifted Nibs down from his pony, carrying him over the border and casting him down. One guard threw down a bag filled with food, another placed a water bottle beside him. The Thain gave the order to mount up, and dropped three silver pennies into the dust between Nibs' feet, then placed a knife in his hands, that he might cut his own bonds as they rode away.  
  
'I declare you outcast,' he said quietly. 'We have left you with food, water, coin, and freedom. Go and make yourself a new life, and may you choose more wisely in the future.' He turned to his pony, mounted, and rode away with the escort, leaving only the rising dust behind to mark their going.


	7. Flames

**7. Flames**  
  
Merimac had sent word once again to arrange for a meeting at the Cockerel. Regi rode with Ferdi, Tolly, and Hilly. The latter had been awkwardly polite to Ferdi ever since the eve of the Pony Races, and Ferdi had been equally courteous.  
  
They stabled their ponies instead of tying them up before the inn; it was less conspicuous, though it made for a slower departure. Merimac's pony was not in evidence. Either he had not yet arrived, or he was watching from the woods as was his wont these days.  
  
The innkeeper, recognising Regi and Ferdi, showed them to the usual table in the shadowy corner, and they sat and sipped their beer in silence as they waited. Tolly and Hilly, of course, remained on guard outside, one hidden in the stables, the other across the road in the trees.  
  
Several Men sat at tables near the door, mugs full of the best beer on the Stock road. Hobbits, Tooks and others, were scattered about the room. Technically, the Cockerel was just outside of Tookland, but many Tooks still came to drink there, despite the threat of ruffians.  
  
The occupants of the room all started when a window shattered, followed by another, and another. Coarse laughter was heard, and a Man suddenly appeared in the doorway, silhouetted against the bright sky outside. 'Everyone out!' he shouted. 'The Chief's closing this place down!'  
  
'Why?' asked the innkeeper, stepping up to the ruffian. 'Why are you doing this?'  
  
The ruffian leered down into the hobbit's shocked face. 'Inns cause trouble,' he sneered. 'Little Rat-folk drink too much beer and start damaging property. Besides,' he said, gesturing to the broken windows. 'This place is an eyesore. You really ought to keep it up better.'  
  
'You cannot do this!' the innkeeper protested.  
  
'Just watch us, little mouse!' the ruffian said, pushing him aside to enter the room. 'Come on, boys, I'd imagine they keep the barrels down cellar.' Two more men pushed in after him, and were soon heard clomping down the stairs.  
  
'What are you doing?' the innkeeper said, outraged.  
  
'We're confis... confisti... confistickating your beer,' the ruffian said. 'There are others who can put it to better use than a lot of drunken hobbits.'  
  
Regi rose smoothly from the table, ignoring Ferdi's restraining hand. He walked up to the ruffian. Ferdi quickly strung his bow and loosened an arrow from the quiver that lay on the floor by his chair, for the atmosphere reeked of trouble.  
  
'You ought to learn to say the word properly, before you do it,' Regi said quietly. 'Con-fis-cate. Surely that is not too hard for you to say.'  
  
'Why, you little...' the ruffian growled, suddenly seizing Regi by the shirt and lifting him from the floor. 'Think you're smarter'n Big Folk, with the little pea-sized brain you've got?'  
  
'Aye, he _knows_ it for a fact,' Ferdi called from his corner, arrow nocked and ready to fly. 'Now you put him down or you'll have more trouble than you can chew.'  
  
'You think to scare me with that toy?' the Man snarled. 'All this time you Tooks have pointed those little pins and needles at us, scared us off, well, I'm telling you this, that's over and done. You haven't the guts to shoot, and those toys couldn't hurt us none, anyhow. We're taking your land, you stinking rodent!' He twisted his grip on Regi's shirt, cutting off his air; Regi put up his good hand to try desperately to loosen the ruffian's grip, to no avail.  
  
'Put him down now,' Ferdi said, an icy calm settling over him.  
  
The ruffian stared at him with contempt. 'And who is going to make me?' He looked at Regi then. 'My, ain't that a purty colour, look at his face, I guess he can't get no air, now, can he?'  
  
Ferdi took a deep breath and released the arrow, which struck the ruffian in his side. With a roar, the Man threw Regi down and advanced on Ferdi, only to be caught by the hobbit's second arrow in the chest. Looking down in surprise, he started to speak, then collapsed sideways, upsetting a table and several chairs.  
  
Ferdi was ready for the next ruffian as he came thundering up the stairs, aiming this time for the quick kill. He knew now he could not afford to wound one of the Big Folk, it just made them more dangerous.  
  
The second Man to ascend the stairs was cut down from the doorway, where Tolly stood, his own bow at the ready. He'd been drawn by the commotion, seen the ruffian cast Reginard down, seen Ferdi shoot again, and yet again.  
  
The innkeeper's wife and the serving lasses were screaming, the others scattering from the room. Tolly stepped aside to let them pass, then bent to Regi. Ferdi advanced, another arrow at the ready, to stand over them. 'Is he...?'  
  
'I'm all right,' Regi gasped.  
  
'More than you can say for those Men,' Tolly said soberly. He helped the other to his feet, and Reginard nodded thanks. 'We're in for it now. D'you think there were any more of them?'  
  
'No, they'd have jumped you from behind, standing in the doorway that way. Whatever were you thinking, Tolly, to leave your back unprotected?'  
  
'Sorry, Reg, I s'pose I wasn't thinking,' Tolly apologised.  
  
'Where's Hilly?'  
  
'Merimac gestured to him from the woods, just before the ruffians arrived,' Tolly said. 'He's across the road, as far as I know.'  
  
'The Bucklander'll never come in here, not after this,' Ferdi said. 'I'll go and see what he wanted.' He met Tolly's gaze. 'Get him out of here, get the ponies, go into the woods. The Men who left are sure to spread the word what's happened.' He turned to the innkeeper. 'Get your people out,' he said. 'Take as many of your possessions as you can manage; head down the road to Tuckborough. If you take along your barrels of beer I'm sure you'll find a warm welcome from the Thain.'  
  
'I cannot leave the Cockerel unprotected,' the innkeeper protested.  
  
'Unprotected?' Ferdi said grimly. 'You've no windows left, as it is, even should you lock the door. Get your people out! You can stay and watch from the woods with us, if you like, but I don't think you'll like what you see.' He nodded to Regi, crossed to the door, peered out cautiously into the deserted yard, and flitted quickly across the road, into the shadow of the trees.  
  
He found Merimac there, grim. 'You don't need to hear my news now,' the Bucklander said. 'You've had it at first hand. The ruffians are closing the inns. It seems "Chief Shirriff Pimple" doesn't hold with drinking beer, unless perhaps it's for himself or his oafs. And something else is coming, but I don't know what it is. The Men are getting bolder, and nastier. They've been gathering in the harvest throughout the Shire as quick as the hobbits can take it from the fields. You've kept them out of Tookland thus far, but no longer, I'm thinking.'  
  
'We'll keep them out,' Ferdi said grimly.  
  
'Right,' Merimac said, 'Well, more luck to you, then. I've got to get back. Things are going to get nasty here.'  
  
'Where shall we meet after this?' Ferdi asked.  
  
Merimac laughed without humour. 'You think we'll be able to meet?' he said. 'If they see you outside of Tookland they'll be stretching your neck at the end of a rope! Those Men that left got a good look at you when you murdered their fellows. You ought to have gone cloaked and hooded, like others with more sense.' Like himself, he meant. Ferdi had yet to see more than the other's eyes.  
  
_Murdered..._ the word began to sink into Ferdi's consciousness. He had taken not just one, but two lives. He began to shake, and for some reason his fingers could no longer hold his bow. Dropping the weapon, he spun away, to be sick in some nearby bushes.  
  
When he'd done, a hand extended a handkerchief to him, and he looked up to see the hooded Bucklander. He wiped his mouth with muttered thanks. 'I'm sorry it had to come to this, lad,' Merimac said softly. 'But you're in it now. There's no going back.'  
  
Ferdi nodded, not wanting to meet anyone's eyes. He was a murderer. Another hand rested itself on his shoulder, and he looked up in spite of himself, to mingled horror and sympathy in Hilly's face. 'You couldn't have done anything else, cousin,' Hilly said. 'We saw everything through the doorway. He'd have killed Regi if you hadn't killed him, you know.'  
  
Ferdi shook his head and turned away. Looking across the road, he saw Tolly emerge with Regi and the innkeeper, Tolly going to the stables to get the ponies, the innkeeper supporting Regi across the road to where they hid. 'I've got to get back, help with the packing,' the innkeeper said.  
  
'Don't try to take too much,' Ferdi warned. 'I don't think you have that much time. Fill a wagon and send it off.'  
  
'Right,' the innkeeper said. 'I'll be back.'  
  
'Are you off, then?' Ferdi said to Merimac.   
  
The other shook his head. 'I'll stay, just long enough to see what happens, though there isn't any doubt in my mind. Still, the Master will want a full report, as long as I'm risking my skin anyway.'  
  
Tolly brought ponies then, taking them deeper into the woods and tying them up. One of the innkeeper's younger sons was with him.  
  
When Tolly returned, he said, 'I've hired the lad to watch the ponies; we've one for the innkeeper and himself, as well, so that they can ride back to Tuckborough with us and not get caught on the road by ruffians, or slow us down.'  
  
'Good thinking,' Regi nodded. They settled down to wait. The innkeeper sent a lad on a pony through the trees, down alongside the road in the direction of Woody End, obviously to keep a look out for advancing Men. The hobbits from the inn filled one wagon and sent it off down the road, then another. It looked as if they had emptied the cellar of its beer, in addition to other possessions. As they were filling a third, the lad came galloping back down the road.  
  
'They're coming!' he shouted.  
  
'Right, then!' they heard the innkeeper answer. 'Off with ye!' The hired hobbits jumped into the half-filled wagon and urged the ponies into a run. The innkeeper scampered across the road to the Tooklanders' hiding place and crouched down. Before long, they heard a growling sound, and soon Men came into sight, marching in a large body.  
  
'More than a score,' Regi muttered.  
  
'What did you expect?' Merimac whispered. 'They're out to set an example for the rest of the Shire.' He eyed the innkeeper. 'It's a good thing you got your people out when you did. I fear there'd be some hobbits dead, along with the ruffians, by day's end, otherwise. They'll be in a nasty mood, might even lock hobbits in the inn and burn it about their ears.'  
  
'Burn them alive?' the innkeeper gasped.  
  
Merimac nodded grimly. 'Hush, now,' he said. 'We do not want them to know we're here.'  
  
As they watched, the Men scattered warily to enter inn and stables. Soon smashing noises were heard. The innkeeper winced, not finding it hard to imagine the wreckage to be seen inside the Cockerel.  
  
'That'll be a nuisance to clear up,' he muttered. Merimac shot him a pitying look. The Tooklanders had a sick feeling about the outcome of this day, and by sunset their fears were to be proven.  
  
As the Men emerged, with very few spoils to show for their rampage, their leader shouted, 'Well?'  
  
'Three dead,' one called back. 'And no beer in the cellar. Rat folk must've taken it all with them when they fled.'  
  
'Well, they'll have no place to keep it, should they return to their rathole,' the leader snarled. 'Burn it!'  
  
'No,' the innkeeper moaned, with his hands over his mouth to stifle the sound.  
  
Men kindled torches, throwing them through the windows, up onto the thatched roofs of inn and stables, which quickly caught fire. Flames leapt to the sky as darkness fell, and the roar of flames could be clearly heard from where the Tooklanders crouched.  
  
Ferdi had his own hands over his mouth, he realised he was moaning when Regi's good hand squeezed his shoulder. In his mind, he was seeing another fire, and even though he now threw himself down and buried his face in his arms, he could still hear the flames crackle and roar, see them licking hungrily, hear the screams of ponies and hobbits.  
  
'Da,' he whimpered, involuntarily. 'Da, don't go in. Please, please don't go in there.'  
  
His father placed a hand on his shoulder. 'We have to get the ponies out, lad. Don't worry, your uncle and I will be fine.'   
  
Ferdibrand Took, Ferdi's favourite uncle, smiled down at his namesake and tousled his hair. 'We'll be in and out in a flash,' he said.  
  
'Come on, Ferdi,' Ferdinand shouted, 'there's no time to waste.' Holding wet handkerchiefs to their faces, the two stumbled into the smoke. Young Ferdi's mother held him tightly about the shoulders as both watched in fear.  
  
Several ponies appeared in the doorway, running out, and young Ferdi's father soon came, leading the prize stallion, scarf wrapped about the pony's head to hide his eyes from the frightening flames.  
  
Ferdi's uncle led out two brood mares, heavy with foal, quickly tied them to a fence, and ran back in again. 'No!' Ferdi's father shouted, 'No, it's about to--!'  
  
Before he could finish, there was a great crackling roar, and a shower of sparks, and the watching hobbits shook their heads in unconscious denial as the burning roof sagged, then fell inwards. Terrible screams were heard from inside the stables, and screams echoed from the hobbits without.  
  
'No,' Ferdi choked, feeling hands on his shoulders, though not with the bruising force his mother had exerted.  
  
'Steady, Ferdi,' Regi's voice sounded in his ear, and Tolly spoke from the other side, empty words of comfort.  
  
They watched as the Men departed, watched until the inn and stables had burned to the ground, watched until the dawn light shone on the blackened rubble that had once been home to the finest beer on the Stock road.


	8. Return

Note to Readers: As I will not have internet access for a few days (though chapters continue to be written, in "Rope"--not so many left, you know!--and in "Flames"--quite a few left, for it looks as if "Flames" may run long, at the rate it's going), look for the next update on Thursday, 6/5, if the Lord allows.

  
****  
  
  
Chapter 8. Return  
  
Open warfare now existed between the Tooks and the ruffians. Any ruffian who set foot upon the soil of Tookland could expect an arrow through the arm or the leg. The Tooks, shooting from cover, seldom shot to kill their quarry, but the wounds were crippling at any event, and Lotho or whoever was in charge eventually stopped sending Men into Tookland.   
  
Odovacar Bolger had gone into hiding with the rest of his family soon after his son Fredegar, leading a resistance band against the ruffians, had been captured and thrown into the Lockholes. Lotho had seized his estates and as much of his fortune as Odo had been unable to spirit away before his disappearance. At the time, Lotho had congratulated himself upon this addition to his own holdings, even as he railed against Buckland and Tookland for their continued resistance.   
  
Lotho's Big Men continued to grow in numbers and nastiness, and though no one officially went in or out of Tookland, Merimac Brandybuck still slipped in upon occasion, posing as a farmer to cross the Brandywine on the Ferry, riding a farm wagon, loaded with produce for trading, to Maggot's, chatting easily away with the Men he met, bribing them handily with plump chickens or marrows or sacks of potatoes. Once at Maggot's he stood upon the porch, haggling, settled on a price, entered the farmhouse to join the family for their meal... and after dark, a cloaked and hooded figure would slip out through a back window, gliding like a shadow between the trees in the orchard, across the fields to the woods, and on towards Tookland.   
  
Some days later, a Buckland farmer in straw hat, chewing on a stem of grass, would drive his empty wagon back to the Ferry, greeting the Men he met with a somber expression, shaking his head, grumbling about the poor prices folk were paying for good food these days. 'I'm sorry for such a poor showing,' he said on one occasion near the end of September, dropping a silver penny into one ruffian's palm, pretending to quail before him. 'Perhaps when I return with a load of apples I'll do better.'  
  
'Let's hope so,' the ruffian growled. He was in a bad temper because his arm ached where the wound from the Tookish arrow had never properly healed. 'Save me some fat ones,' he said, and the farmer promised faithfully, fat and red, juicy and properly shined, certainly, Sir, and glad to do it. In all, the farmer was cringing and fawning enough to mollify him, and he waved him through to the Ferry landing.   
  
Ferdibrand, returning from the meeting, was immediately shown to the Thain's study with his report. Standing straight before the ornate desk, he said, 'Word is that there's a new Shirriff with a scar on his cheek.'  
  
'Where?' the Thain demanded.   
  
'Bywater,' Ferdi said. 'He matches the description of the outcast.' The Thain nodded. Nothing was sacred to Lotho Baggins, it seemed. He knew how to recruit loyal followers, for certain. The outcast would never have been able to get into the Shire, otherwise, much less stay there. Most of the Shirriffs served reluctantly, from all reports, but there were enough loyal to Lotho for one reason or another, plus the ruffians, to keep the others in line.   
  
'What else did he say?'  
  
'The ruffians have grown bolder, and they serve someone they call "Sharkey", someone newly arrived in the Shire. Or at least, they give the impression that this Sharkey's orders are to blame for all the latest mischief.'  
  
' "Sharkey",' Paladin mulled the name. It meant nothing to him. 'A new hireling of Pimple's?'  
  
'Merimac didn't know, but he didn't get that impression,' Ferdibrand answered. 'It's curious, but he said it is almost as if...' he scratched his head, puzzled, 'as if this Sharkey's calling the tune, and Lotho's doing the dancing.'  
  
'Hmmmm,' Ferdibrand waited while Paladin thought this over.   
  
A voice spoke from behind Ferdibrand. 'You haven't told him all the news,' Regi said, amusement in his voice.   
  
The Thain looked sharply from him to Ferdi. 'Eh?' he said. 'What does he mean?'  
  
Regi strode forward, to push a paper across the desk. It had evidently been posted on a tree or wall, and torn hastily from its mounting. 'Ferdi's worth twice what he was last month,' he said. 'You could add a lot of gold to your coffers were you to turn him in to the Shirriffs.'  
  
The Thain snorted. 'Don't even have to turn you in alive, anymore, they'll take you dead as well,' he said.   
  
Ferdi bowed ironically. 'I'm afraid it matters to me more than to them, whether I'm dead or alive,' he said.   
  
'Indeed,' the Thain said dryly. 'Well, you're of some use to us, yet. I s'pose we'll keep you awhile longer, see if the price goes up a bit more.'  
  
October wore away slowly. Merimac slipped into Tookland twice more, with news more grim each time. It seemed that this mysterious Sharkey had established himself comfortably at Bag End, and the ruffians under his leadership were growing more vicious daily. There was also word that the ruffians were planning something, perhaps some assault in force on Tookland, and a demand had been issued to the Master of Buckland, to tear down his Gate or have it torn down for him. Gates had been built at either end of the Brandywine Bridge, and the Ferry was no longer running. Merimac, for his last visit, had to slip across the River in a small boat after dark. The Tooks, who wouldn't be caught dead in a boat, wondered at his boldness.   
  
'At least I avoid having to change at Maggot's,' he said philosophically to Ferdi as they crouched in the hollow of an old tree. 'I hated putting him in danger, though I must admit he drove a hard bargain for those wagons of produce I used to drive over there.' He shivered and pulled his cloak closer about himself. 'What news have you had from other parts?'  
  
'None at all,' Ferdi said. 'They've locked Tookland up tight. The Thain thinks they're planning something.'  
  
'He could be right,' Merimac nodded. 'There are hundreds of Men in the Shire, now, and they've got some bows in addition to the whips, clubs and knives they had before. They've started killing hobbits, as well. If they feel strong enough, they might assault Tookland. You could have a full-scale battle in the planning. You'd better set a heavier guard.'  
  
Ferdi said, 'We've got Tooks on all the approaches, and traps where we can't put Tooks.'  
  
'Good,' Merimac said.   
  
'Where do you think they'll come?'  
  
Merimac shrugged. 'Could be from any direction. They've got Men all around Tookland.' He ticked off on his fingers. 'Bywater, Waymeet, Longbottom, Woody End.'  
  
'We're surrounded,' Ferdi agreed, glumly.   
  
'By the way, congratulations.'  
  
'For what?' Ferdi asked.   
  
The other chuckled. 'I understand you're worth quite a bit of gold.' Ferdi smiled grimly. Merimac added, 'You know, if there were any pipeweed to be had for love or for money, I might be tempted to turn you in myself.' The two stiffened as a branch snapped, and they sat in silence for awhile. Finally, Merimac added, 'You'd better go. They've plastered pictures of your face all over these parts, and it's not a healthy place for you to linger. I've given you all the news I have, anyhow.'  
  
Ferdi nodded and started to rise, but Merimac stopped him. 'Go with grace, lad.' He nodded soberly, sketched a salute, and slipped from the hollow of the tree.   
  
Upon his return, Thain Paladin contemplated the significance of Merimac's warning. 'We'd better have larger groups of Tooks guarding the paths from the places he mentioned.' He looked to Regi. 'You and Ferdi lead a group to watch the approach from Bywater. I want you out there, sunset to sunrise, every day, and another group watching in daylight.'  
  
'Yes, Sir,' Regi said.   
  
It was a cold, weary business, lying in the ditches that bordered the fields, and boring as well. Three nights passed with no attack by marauding ruffians. Somehow the hobbits found this more disquieting than reassuring. It seemed as if tension were increasing in the Shire. The folk were cold and hungry, fearful to grumble, yet grumbling nevertheless. The Tooks kept their vigilant watch, and waited for the storm to break, whatever it might be.   
  
On November the Second, instead of standing on the bank of the stream, watching the Sun seek her bed, preparing to mourn the passing of those who'd died since the previous November, Regi and Ferdi and a dozen other Tooks found themselves once again lying in a ditch between Tuckborough and Bywater.   
  
Ferdi sighed. 'What is it?' Regi whispered.   
  
'I wish something would happen,' Ferdi said. 'I've had more diversion watching the grass grow of a summer's day.' He and the others stiffened then, as the sound of a silver horn was carried faintly to them on the breeze.   
  
_Awake! Awake! Fear, Fire, Foes! Awake!_   
_Fire, Foes! Awake!_   
  


'What was that?' Tolly hissed.   
  
'The Horn-cry of Buckland,' Regi answered. 'But what's it being blown in Bywater for?' He raised his voice to a whispered shout. 'Everybody! On your toes!'  
  
The Tooks quickly strung their bows and loosened their arrows in the sheaths. Ferdi took out half a dozen arrows and jammed them lightly into the soil before him, ready for a quick grab, and the others followed suit. They waited once more, and in the gathering night another horn-cry came to them, no nearer, but still compelling and somehow heartening.   
  
'Something's happening!' Tolly hissed. Ferdi hushed him, passing the word to right and left down the line to be ready.   
  
They waited.   
  
Hoofbeats sounded, growing louder as they approached. Half a dozen riders, perhaps, and from the sound of the quick beats, ponies' feet, ponies being ridden in a hurry over the darkening fields. Ferdi passed the news for the Tooks to nock arrows and be ready to shoot at his signal.   
  
The ponies came closer, and in the fading light Ferdi could just make out that they were ridden by hobbits. Shirriffs, perhaps? Why no Men? If this were the beginning of the assault on Tookland, hobbits might be used to disarm the resistance. The Tooks had yet to shoot at any of their fellow hobbits, even the ones working for Lotho, or Sharkey, as it was now.   
  
He made a quick decision, leaping to his feet, striding forward a few steps, himself alone a target, his troop still safely concealed in the ditch. 'Hold!' he called out in a clear voice. 'You are trespassing upon Tookish land! Turn back, or be fired upon!'  
  
The riders stopped, and a voice came out of the gathering gloom. 'Ferdibrand?'  
  
Ferdi felt himself reeling. It was not possible, it could not be. 'Identify yourself!' he cried. He heard a pony being walked closer, until he could just see the rider on its back. He wondered if he were dreaming, for he looked upon a figure in mail, wearing a helm, carrying a shield.   
  
'Ferdibrand! Don't you know me, you silly son of a Took?'  
  
'Pippin?' he said incredulously. The pony was pulled to a halt before him, the rider slid down, but an unfamiliar figure with a familiar voice. This hobbit was taller than the cousin he remembered, and dressed as if he came out of a book of heroic tales.   
  
'Ferdi!' Laughing and weeping, the two embraced. The other Tooks, hearing the commotion, erupted from the ditch, coming forward in wonder to gape at the son of the Thain in his faintly gleaming mail.   
  
'Pippin?' Reginard said slowly. 'Is it really you, or is this... some kind of trick?'  
  
'You're supposed to be dead!' Ferdi laughed, thumping his cousin on the back. 'We had your memorial!'  
  
'And I missed it!' Pippin said in chagrin. 'Ah, well, no time for regrets. We're raising the Shire against the ruffians. I'm on my way to Tuckborough to fetch an army.'  
  
'Good thing you ran into us, then,' Ferdi said. 'You'd never get past the traps.'  
  
'Traps?' Pippin said.   
  
Regi laughed. 'O aye,' he said, 'Ferdi's been quite brilliant in laying traps for unwelcome guests.'  
  
'I suppose the Sackville-Bagginses haven't been to tea in quite awhile, then,' Pippin said.   
  
'Quite awhile,' Ferdi affirmed.   
  
'All right,' Pippin said. 'Climb up behind me, Ferdi, and guide us through the traps, if you please. The rest of you wait here, and we'll be back as soon as we can. I see you've brought your bows, good! I think we're about to have quite an exciting hunt.' The Tooks cheered, and watched the little group ride out of sight, then settled cheerfully back into their ditch. It seemed that things were looking up.   
  
***  
  
COMING NEXT: The Battle of Bywater


	9. Battle

Chapter 9. Battle  
  
Regi soon re-established order, for a group of ruffians might still come along, and they'd be in an ugly mood if the hobbits of the Shire were arising. He found himself shaking his head, over again, at the wonder of The Took's son, returned from the dead. Tall, and... knightly. Come to deliver his fellow hobbits out from under the heavy hand of their oppressors, laughing in the face of battle, the stuff of tales. If Pippin truly managed to throw out the ruffians... there would be a Thain worth his loyalty. He listened to the hoofbeats until they faded from hearing.  
  
Riding along to Tuckborough at a fast pace precluded much talk, though Pippin followed Ferdi's shouted directions quickly enough, and the hobbit lads behind them turned when they did, along the circuitous path that avoided the traps laid for ruffians.  
  
As they rode into Tuckborough, they heard shouts, and a bonfire sprang up on the hillside above the town.  
  
'We've been spotted by the watchers!' Ferdi shouted. 'You'll soon have all the attention you want.' Pippin laughed, and pulled his pony down to a trot, the other riders following suit. They trotted into the courtyard before the Smials, to face a ring of grim-faced archers, arrowheads gleaming in the light of many torches.  
  
'Hold!' one of them shouted. 'What is your business here?'  
  
Ferdi slid from the pony's back. 'Put down your weapons,' he called back. 'These are friends!'  
  
'Ferdi? What goes on?' Thain Paladin's voice spoke from the line of archers. He lowered his bow and stepped forward. 'Why have you left your post?'  
  
'We're raising the Shire against the ruffians,' Pippin said, sliding down to stand beside Ferdi. The Thain dropped the bow, and the arrow that he held, and took a step forward. From the corner of his eye, Ferdi saw Pippin remove his helm, tucking it under his arm. 'Hullo, Father,' he said. 'I'm sorry I missed your birthday dinner.'  
  
'Pippin...?' the Thain gasped, and staggered towards his son. Pippin jumped to meet him, and the two embraced fiercely, the father sobbing unashamed, and tears glinting on the son's cheeks as well. Finally, Paladin straightened, putting Pippin away from him, holding him at arm's length to gaze at him in the torchlight. 'You... you're taller,' he said slowly, '...and dressed like an outlander... but no outlander I've ever seen before. Like something out of the old tales...'  
  
Pippin laughed. 'I've been living in the old tales, so I might as well be dressed for it,' he said. 'Father, I need archers, to march to Bywater, as many as you can spare. We're raising the Shire against the ruffians.'  
  
The Thain nodded. 'We'll sound the call throughout Tookland. The Shire's being raised?' He looked to Ferdi. 'This is what we've been waiting for! We're not going to stop here for the Men to come to us, we're going to drive them out!' He looked to Pippin. 'I can spare you about a hundred archers, I think. There's a large nest of vipers to the South; I'll take an army of Tooks that way to keep them from bothering anybody.' To Ferdi, he said, 'Send word to all the watchers, hunting season on ruffians just opened. The hunt is up! Drive them out. Kill any who resist, let them go if they throw down their weapons, but run them all the way to the Bounds!'  
  
'Aye, Sir,' Ferdi said, and set about the business of spreading the news. When he returned, the archers were moving into marching formations, and Pippin's mother and sisters were embracing him as if they would never let him go again.  
  
He finally shook himself loose, saying, 'But the hunt is up, and we mustn't let the fox escape with any of the chickens! I promise, we'll have a fine feast once the Shire is free of vermin.'  
  
'The archers are ready,' Ferdi said.  
  
Thain Paladin nodded, embraced his son once more, and mounted his pony. 'Let us hunt some ruffians!' he called, and a great cheer went up. He led his group of archers out of the courtyard, marching smartly, singing as they went.  
  
Pippin mounted his own pony, saying, 'Coming, Ferdi?'  
  
'I'm right behind you, cousin, just one more job to do,' Ferdi answered. He finished going over the message with the messenger he was sending ahead to Bywater, nodded satisfaction to hear it repeated back properly, said, 'Good, you've got it, be off with you then!' giving the messenger's pony a sharp slap on the rump for good measure. He then mounted his own pony, and led Pippin's archers along the safe paths to where he'd left Regi.  
  
Reaching the ditch, they found the others ready and eager to join the march. Ferdi slipped from his pony, tossing the reins to Regi. 'I'm an archer now,' he said. 'I'll join the rest.'  
  
'Let us go!' Pippin shouted, circling his sword above his head, then pointing it before him. 'To Bywater!'  
  
'To Bywater!' the Tooks shouted, and began the seven-mile march with heads high and eyes shining.  
  
Reaching Bywater at about half-past ten in the morning, they were directed by a mail-clad Meriadoc Brandybuck into the hedges atop the high banks on both sides of the Bywater Road. 'Kill only if you have to,' the word was passed down the lines. 'Shoot any who try to break out, but those who lay down their weapons are to be spared.'  
  
They did not have long to wait before the ruffians, armed with torches, clubs, whips, wicked gleaming knives that would have served hobbits as swords, and bows, turned into the lane from the East Road, coming round the bend to a stout barrier of old farm-carts upturned. They stopped, and one gave a shout, pointing to the hedges. The others looked up into grim Tookish faces, arrows at the ready. 'Retreat!' one of the Men shouted in a hoarse voice, but when they turned back, they found the way blocked by more waggons.  
  
From the top of one bank, Merry spoke. 'Well, you have walked into a trap. Your fellows from Hobbiton did the same, and one is dead and the rest are prisoners. Lay down your weapons! Then go back twenty paces and sit down. Any who try to break out will be shot.'  
  
Several of the Men laid their weapons down and started to step back, only to be set upon, beaten down by the clubs of their fellows. There was a murmur of protest from the hobbits at this, but no time for outrage, for about a score of the Men charged the waggons, trying to break out. The hobbits shot six as the crowd pushed the waggons over, but more than a dozen burst out and ran across the fields, scattering in the direction of Woody End. Two of these fell, pierced by Tookish arrows as they ran. 'Hold your fire!' Pippin called. 'We've more to deal with here!'  
  
Merry blew a loud horn-call, and there were answering calls from a distance.  
  
'They won't get far,' said Pippin. 'All that country is alive with our hunters now.' He turned his attention back to the lane, where the remainder of the trapped Men, about four score, had hesitated as the shooting broke out. Now these were climbing the barrier and the banks, and the hobbits were obliged to try to cut them down however they could. The hobbits of Bywater grimly plied their axes and pitchforks, and Tookish arrows fell like rain.  
  
On the western side of the lane, Ferdi cried a warning. 'They're breaking through!' A great squint-eyed ruffian, brandishing a wicked, spike-studded club, rose up before Reginard, only to fall as Ferdi's arrow found his heart. Before Ferdi could fit another arrow to his bow, another ruffian climbed over the bank before him, club raised, and Ferdi instinctively put up his arms to ward off the blow. With agonising slowness, as it seemed to him, the club came down. It splintered his fine bow to kindling, Ferdi had enough time to notice with regret, before it ploughed through his bow arm and onwards, inexorably bearing him down as a hammer strikes a nail into the plank. The Man was raising his club again, to finish his work, when Hilly's arrow found his throat, toppling him onto Ferdi's body.  
  
The Tooks were fighting valiantly but wavering under the onslaught, when Merry and Pippin, who were on the east side of the lane, came across and charged the ruffians. One ruffian with a bow stood in the melee, taking careful aim at the mail-clad hobbit in black and silver. A hobbit with Shirriff's hat and brand on his cheek cast a well-aimed stone, and the ruffian's arrow flew wide of its mark, while a Tookish arrow put a stop to any more shooting on that ruffian's part. Another of the Men, observing this treachery from one of Lotho's minions, brought down his club upon the Shirriff, administering a kick to the fallen hobbit for good measure, before an arrow felled him.  
  
Suddenly the fight was over, the leader of the ruffians slain, the last remnant of the Men encircled in a wide ring of archers. They laid down their weapons. 'Down! Down on the ground!' Merry shouted, and they dropped down to sit, hands behind their necks.  
  
Frodo barely restrained a weeping Hilly from sending an arrow into the crowd of Men, jerking at his arm to spoil his aim, recalling him to himself with a few urgent words, before moving on to calm other hobbits who threatened the now-helpless Men in their wrath and sorrow over their losses.  
  
The dead were set aside to be buried, and the wounded were tended. As much as could be done was done for the wounded Tooks, before they were loaded into the hastily-righted waggons to be slowly carted back to Tuckborough. Pippin watched over the loading with tears in his eyes, saying to Ferdi as they arranged him as comfortably as could be on a bed of straw, 'I'll see you back at the Smials, cousin.' Of course there was no answer, but Pippin pressed the limp hand and sadly hoped that he spoke the truth.  
  
'Come on, Pip,' Merry said gently. 'Frodo wants us.'  
  
'Right,' Pippin said, rubbing at his eyes with a grimy hand, and straightening. 'There's always more to be done,' he sighed. He squared his shoulders. 'So let's get on with it.' 


	10. Restoration

Notes to Readers:  
  
Xena, what excellent, helpful, and encouraging reviews! When you reviewed Ch 8, you mentioned thinking the outcast was despicable for joining Lotho. You know, I rather feel sorry for him. This was really the only way for him to return to the Shire, you know, to join forces with the invaders, since the legitimate ruler had cast him out. Since you've already R&R'd chapter 9 you know how he redeems himself. As to Ferdi and the price on his head, well, he's earned it, what with sneaking in and out of Tookland, gathering news, and setting little surprises for the Ruffians. If he were stealing from the rich and giving to the poor he'd be a regular Robin Hood. Guess you could compare him to the Resistance workers in WWII, ever read any of their stories? Fascinating.  
  
Pansy, thanks, it's nice to be missed. It's even nicer to be back. Are you reading over my shoulder? Funny how often your reviews accurately forecast future developments. As a matter of fact, in this chapter, the Thain asks the same question about the hole-digging...  
  
LadyJea, You're not pathetic at all. (hug) You are a blessing to this writer.  
  
eiluj, Welcome! Have you reviewed before? Thanks for the kind words. Yes, the Muse moved in back in February when I was suffering a spell of pneumonia, all the kids were sick, dh was out of town, and there was nothing else to do but lie around and write (when not reading aloud to the little ones). Prolific? Perhaps, though "obsessed" might be a better word. I try to write a chapter a day on both stories I'm currently working on. If I hit a block on one of the stories, a short, one-chapter story often pops up to take the place of the daily chapter. I do not know how long this will last, but am enjoying it in the meantime...  
  
Marion, well, Paladin did weep over his son's return; deep down, he really does love Pippin, though he usually doesn't let himself show it. And for a little while, things will be pretty smooth between father and son, not because I have changed the character of the characters, but because "absence makes the heart grow fonder", they love each other, and for awhile Pippin will be doing exactly what his father orders him to do, i.e. scour the remaining ruffians out of the Shire. However, as soon as Pip starts showing signs of thinking for himself, the old troubles might reappear...  
  
Hai, yes, Ferdi has become full-blown in my imagination. I keep wanting to look for other stories about him on ffnet... silly, eh?  
  
FantasyFan, the next installment is up, and the one after that is here in this very post, so enjoy. But you might want to bring a hankie.  
  
***  
  
Chapter 10. Restoration  
  
Old Tom Clayburrow stood over the body of his son, looking down in silence. Regi came, stooped to check for life, started to lift the outcast.  
  
'Where are you taking him?' Tom bestirred himself to ask.  
  
'To the waggons,' Regi answered.  
  
'Back... to Tookland? But, I thought...' Tom said, confused.  
  
'He saved Pippin's life,' Regi said quietly. 'That counts for something.' He looked up at Old Tom. 'He's dying,' he said bluntly. 'I'm no healer, but I can read the signs. He might as well die at home, after what he's done.'  
  
Old Tom nodded and bent to help lift his son. The outcast stirred and moaned slightly. 'It's all right, lad,' Old Tom said reassuringly. 'We're taking you home.'  
  
'Da?' the outcast whispered, half opening his eyes, then he closed them again with a sigh. They carried him to the waggons and laid him down beside Ferdi; Regi climbed up to sit between them in case either should stir. Old Tom marched alongside, holding his son's hand.  
  
When they were halfway to Tuckborough, darkness fell, and the waggons proceeded slowly by torch- and lantern-light. A score of Tooks had been injured in the battle, struck down by clubs, fists, kicks, hacked by knives, pierced by arrows. Some moaned softly as the waggons bore them along, others lay ominously still. Nineteen hobbits had died in the battle, some Tooks among them, and these had been buried together in a grave upon the hill-side in Bywater.  
  
Tuckborough was lit up as if it were already Yuletide, and shouting, singing hobbits were in the streets. They quieted as the waggons entered the town, seeing the cargo, and fell in line behind the procession, silently following all the way to the Great Smials.  
  
The Thain came out to meet them, his broad grin fading as he saw the occupants in the torchlight. 'Pippin?' he said to Regi as the latter hopped down from the first waggon.  
  
'He had some business to discuss with Lotho Baggins, I was told,' Regi said.  
  
The Thain's eyes went to the outcast. 'What's he doing here?' he asked sharply. Regi explained, and Paladin nodded. 'Of course,' he said. 'I would have done the same.' He turned to Old Tom. 'I reverse my judgment.'  
  
'Thank you, Sir,' Old Tom said with a nod.  
  
The Thain's eyes went over the other occupants of the waggon, stopping on Ferdi. 'Who...?' he started to say, then stopped. The bloody bandages, the purpling bruises, the swelling had made it difficult, but he recognised Ferdi at last.  
  
'He was in the thick of it,' Regi said with a sigh. 'Saved me from gaining a few extra holes in my head.'  
  
'Of course,' Paladin said, then raised his voice. 'Let's get them all inside,' he ordered. He looked down the line of waggons, spotting several healers already at work. 'Woodruff!'  
  
***  
  
Thain Paladin sat by the bed where the outcast lay. One of Healer Woodruff's assistants, Mardibold Took, finished his examination and shook his head sadly.  
  
'Thank you, Mardi,' Paladin said. 'You may leave us.'  
  
Old Tom, his wife Tansy, and the rest of their children hovered at the foot of the bed. The Thain looked up, nodded to them, and Tom and Tansy stepped to the other side of the bed, Tansy taking her middle son's hand and Tom encompassing both their hands in his.  
  
'Nibs, can you hear me?' Paladin said.  
  
The eyes opened, to look at him in surprise. The Thain smiled. 'Yes, lad,' he said, 'You have your name back.' Tansy suppressed a sob, and Paladin continued. 'With no thought for yourself, you saved my son from a ruffian's arrow.'  
  
'Aye,' the outcast whispered. 'Couldn't let him... couldn't let him shoot... Pippin.'  
  
'Can you tell me why you dug those holes?' Paladin asked.  
  
'Gold,' Nibs breathed. 'They offered... gold, said it was just... mischief.'  
  
Paladin sighed. 'Gold,' he said. 'I'm sorry, lad. Gold shines with a pretty gleam, but I've found it fairly useless when it comes to the things that matter.' Nibs nodded, and Paladin felt the fingers flutter weakly in his handclasp.  
  
'I know,' he whispered. 'It wasn't worth... being cast out.'  
  
Paladin nodded. 'It couldn't buy me my son back, when I thought him lost,' he said. '...but you kept me from losing him again, and I'm that grateful to you.'  
  
Nibs smiled.  
  
The Thain continued. 'I have rescinded my order. Your offences have been pardoned. You are no longer outcast, you have been restored to your place amongst the people of the Shire. I have written your name again in the Book this night, with my own hand. May it stand there forever.'  
  
Nibs sighed, still smiling, and his mother bowed her head and began to sob softly. Old Tom reached out, gently closing his son's eyes. 'Good night, my lad,' he said softly. 'May all your dreams be of peace.' 


	11. Dream

Note to Readers:   
  
To All and Sundry (and just who is Sundry, I'd like to know?): Somebody said that they had just recently noticed the final (wedding) chapter added to "Striking Sparks". Did you know that we finally got to the wedding? Hadn't seen but one or two comments to that effect, was just wondering. Just because an author posts a final chapter doesn't mean s/he is no longer interested in your comments on that story! (Getting nervous, "Rope" will be ending soon...)   
  
Please note that I have changed the rating of "Flames" to PG. It is a bit more intense than what I usually write, and my standard is, anything I wouldn't feel comfortable with our now-3rd grader reading ("graduated" 2nd grade last night!)--o, and she has read the original LOTR, she is a very mature reader, as far as skill and comprehension goes--should not be rated G. However, our older one could read it, were she interested, therefore, it is not PG-13, but rather, PG. Whew. Got my own Board of Standards set up... Just in case anybody wondered...   
  
Marion, you are right on the money! You might have noticed that Nibs' own father made no attempt to pick up his son from the battlefield; he was constrained by law to let the "authorities" deal with the outcast--as you recall, he had "one son less". How difficult that must have been for Old Tom!   
  
The only people with the authority to bring Nibs back home were the Thain (obviously), Pippin (the heir), and Reginard (the Thain's right hand hobbit), and it was Regi who made the decision. I'm sure you noted that he recognised Nibs was dying, as did the Thain once Regi explained himself (Mardi was only there to make the dying hobbit comfortable, but I don't like to overstate and overexplain and left it up to the reader to figure this out).   
  
You're right, that one little act would not return him to his old life.   
  
Had Nibs been uninjured, he'd have been silently ("no comfort of any sort") escorted to the border, but not given food, water and coin as in the original banishment (remember the Thain's words as he pronounced sentence in "Guilty"?). Had he been able to recover from his wounds, I think the hobbits would have nursed him back to relative health (out of gratitude for his saving Pippin), and shown him the border. The clemency you saw extended was simply to allow him to die at home, with his family around him.   
  
  
**11. Dream**  
  
Two days after the battle, Pippin stuck his head in at the door of the room where Ferdi lay. Reginard looked up from where he sat by the bed.  
  
'So, did you settle Lotho's account?' Regi asked.  
  
'Someone had already settled it for him,' Pippin answered, 'but it's the Shire that'll be footing the bill for a long while.'  
  
Regi nodded. 'I would not have recognised Bywater,' he said. 'Good thing we were able to keep them out of Tookland.'  
  
'Aye,' Pippin said. 'And I'll be off again on the morrow, throwing the rest of the refuse out of the Shire.' He looked to Pimpernel on the other side of the bed. 'You go to your rest, Nelly-my-girl,' he said kindly. 'I've a night's rest coming to me, and I might as well spend a bit of it here.'  
  
'Same old Pip,' Pimpernel said. 'Don't you "Nelly-my-girl" me! You ought to show some respect for your elders.'  
  
'Just be glad you don't have to bow down to me,' Pippin replied. 'I'm a Prince of the Halflings, you know.'  
  
'Is that what you told all those outlanders? And they believed you!'  
  
Pippin smiled, but it faded as he looked to the bed. He kissed his sister as she rose from the chair by the bed, and she threw her arms around him.  
  
'You get some rest, yourself,' she said.  
  
'I will,' Pippin answered. 'Just wanted to chew over old times with Ferdi awhile, is all.' With a final squeeze, Pimpernel sighed, shook her head, and stepped softly from the room.  
  
Pippin watched her go, then settled in the vacated chair. 'My,' he said. 'She's grown up to be a pretty one. Why haven't you married her, Reg?'  
  
'Don't you go marrying me off, Pip,' Reginard answered. 'I just got free of being heir to the Thain, and I intend to enjoy myself awhile.'  
  
'How about you, Ferdi?' Pippin said, leaning forward to address the still figure in the bed. 'What're your plans now that you're retired from laying traps for ruffians?' He patted the unbandaged shoulder. 'You don't have to answer right away; you think on't a bit.'  
  
'I'm sure he will,' Regi said, and then the two fell silent.  
  
In truth, Ferdi was not thinking on any such thing; he was deep in dream.  
  
In his thoughts he was back in a day in early October, when he'd stolen out of Tookland on one of his periodic forays to gather news. His sister Rosemary had married a woodcarver, and they lived not far from Woody End. Ruffians were occasionally to be found in their home, eating her baking or trading for carven curiosities. The woodcarver's family was shunned by their neighbors for their friendly relations with Lotho's Men, but Rosemary and her husband Hally went quietly about their business, gathering much valuable information from the ruffians' idle talk.  
  
Ferdi would occasionally slip in to harvest their crop of news, share a meal, and slip out again. Just this morning he had lain hidden in the woods while ruffians loitered in the yard, swigging tea and munching generous slices of apple cake whilst Hally finished carving a whistle. He handed it to one of the Men with a bow and smile, and the Man tested it out, sending a clear high note through the woods. 'That's prime, Hally,' he said, and blew it again.  
  
The ruffians laughed, the Man pocketed the whistle, Hally and his wife bowed to their guests, and the little children waved as the Men took themselves off, promising to return in a few days with apples and flour so that Rosemary could bake them some tarts.  
  
Ferdi waited until they were well away before creeping through the yard to the back door. He tiptoed up behind his sister, placing his hands over her eyes, and said, 'Did you save me any of that fine-looking cake, now, or are you only feeding ruffians these days?'  
  
Rosemary gasped and whirled. 'Ferdi!' she scolded. 'You shouldn't be here! 'Tis much too dangerous!'  
  
'I watched them leaving,' he said. 'Did they say aught of interest?'  
  
'Not much,' Rosemary answered. She told him about the new Boss, "Sharkey", and how things were supposed to change "for the better", according to the ruffians.  
  
'And just this morning that Bucklander left a message in the hollow tree,' she said. 'He wants to meet with you this evening.'  
  
Ferdi sipped at his tea. 'I ought to do the same,' he said.  
  
'The same what?' Rosemary said. 'I don't follow you.'  
  
'Ought to leave messages in a hollow of a tree. You're right, you know,' he said. 'I've got to stop coming here. It's much too dangerous for you. Should the ruffians find me here they'll burn this place with you in it.' He thought a moment. 'How does Merimac know to check for messages?' he asked.  
  
'I hang out three sheets on the line if there's news,' his sister said, 'or Aunt Essie's tablecloth,' she gestured to the bright red cloth on the table where they sat, 'if there's danger, such as ruffians about.'  
  
'Good thinking,' Ferdi said approvingly. 'Here's what we'll do. If you have news for me, leave it in the hollow of the old beech tree by the stream, and hang out three yellow shirts in a row, brightest you've got. I'll be by on occasion, but if I don't see the signal on the clothes-line I won't stop.'  
  
'Good,' Rosemary said. 'They've pictures of you pegged to nearly every tree round these parts. Best you hide yourself and not come unless you're wanted.'  
  
Hally came in hurriedly. 'Bad trouble,' he said. 'The ruffians came back for some reason, and they've found your pony in the wood.'  
  
Ferdi rose abruptly, but the other put a hand out to stop him. 'No, they're all around the house, searching,' he said. 'We've got to hide you here.'  
  
'You cannot do that,' Ferdi said grimly. 'They'll search the house next.' He sat down again. 'Tie my hands, be quick about it! We'll see if we can trick them.'  
  
'Ferdi?' his sister gasped.  
  
Her husband nodded. 'He's right,' he said, and grabbing a piece of rope from a shelf, he began to bind Ferdi's wrists behind him.  
  
'Make it tight enough to convince them, but not too tight that I cannot work myself free, given time,' Ferdi said.  
  
'Aye,' the woodcarver answered. He stepped back. 'Try them.' Ferdi tested the bonds, nodded. Rough voices were heard outside. Hally went to the door, jerked it open. 'Here!' he called sharply. 'Good thing you've come back! I've got somewhat for you. 'E wandered in lookin' for a bite, and I caught 'im, I did!' he crowed. 'When do I get the reward?'  
  
'Lookee here!' one of the ruffians shouted. 'It's the Fox himself!'  
  
'You've caught a prize all right,' another ruffian said, grinning.  
  
'So,' the woodcarver said. 'Ye'll take him back to the Lock-holes, then?'  
  
'Too much bother,' the leader of the Men answered. 'We'll just hang him. The Boss has said he'd be just as happy to see him dead as in the Lock-holes.' Rosemary gasped, and the ruffian said reassuringly. 'Don't worry, you'll still get the gold. The reward's good even if he's dead.'  
  
Another ruffian laughed. 'Maybe better, Scar,' he said. 'At least we don't have to cart him all that way, and likely as not have him escape ere we arrive.'  
  
'There's a likely-looking tree in the yard,' one of the Men said helpfully.  
  
'Naw, Bill, 'tis too lonely here,' Scar said. 'We'd do better to take him to the Stock Road, hang him there as a warning to other troublemakers, and more'll see him that way.'  
  
'Right, Scar,' another said. He jerked Ferdi to his feet. 'Come along, you,' he said. Ferdi met his sister's eyes as he was hauled out of the house, shaking his head ever so slightly. Rosemary must not give herself away, for her sake and for the children's. Besides, it was a fair piece to the Stock Road from here, plenty of time to loose his wrists and leave the ruffians in the dust.  
  
'Nice bit of work, Hally,' Scar said to the woodcarver, who had followed them out to the yard where more Men stood, one of them holding Ferdi's pony. 'We'll bring that reward next time we're down this way.'  
  
'Don't you forget,' Hally said jovially, and the Man laughed.  
  
'I won't,' Scar said. 'Take the saddle off,' he added to the Man holding the pony. He took a length of rope from his pack and made a noose, slipping it over Ferdi's head. 'There,' he said with satisfaction. 'Should you clap your feet against that pony's sides, we'll just yank you off before he can carry you away. Wouldn't want you to get lost now, would we?'  
  
They put Ferdi on the pony and began to lead him away, calling cheerful goodbyes to the silent hobbits in the doorway. Hally smiled and waved when the Men looked his way. 'Hurry back... with that gold, I mean!' he called. The Men laughed, and he stepped back inside and pulled the door closed. As soon as the Men had left the little clearing with their prize, the woodcarver's wife hung out three damp sheets, and a freshly-washed red tablecloth, upon the clothes-line in the side yard. At the same time, her husband shouldered his axe and set out whistling to find just the right tree.  
  
A Man stepped out from the shadow of the byre. 'Where are you going, Hally?' he asked.  
  
The hobbit smiled. 'No rest for the weary,' he said cheerily. 'I've got to cut more wood if I'm to make more whistles and whatnots for you lot.'  
  
The Man laughed.  
  
'Did you want something?' Hally asked.  
  
'No,' said the Man. 'We've heard tell that the Fox and the Badger had been seen near here and figured the one would not be too far from the other.'  
  
' "Badger"?' Hally asked.  
  
'O you know, one of them Bucklanders.'  
  
'Bucklanders, here?' the woodcarver asked in amazement. 'What would they be doing here?'  
  
'Making trouble,' the Man said grimly. 'You be sure to tell us if you see any strangers about.'  
  
'That I will,' Hally promised solemnly. 'I will, at that.'  
  
***  
  
The ruffians covered the distance to the Stock Road more quickly than hobbits would have, keeping the pony at a steady trot.  
  
'Won't be long, now,' the leader, Scar, said cheerfully. 'We'll have a bite, take care of business, and be on our way.'  
  
Ferdi had been trying to work at his bonds, but it was difficult on a trotting pony, especially when he also had to concentrate to keep his balance.  
  
All too soon they reached the road to Stock. The leader picked a likely tree and threw Ferdi's rope over the limb, fastening it off. 'There,' he said. 'You sit quiet, now, unless you want to do our job for us.' He grinned in Ferdi's face. 'I surely hope your pony don't spook.'  
  
'You're not the only one,' Ferdi said. He was fighting for calm. He wondered if the ruffians could hear his heart, it was pounding so. He blessed the delay, however. He knew it was meant for his torment, to stretch out his anticipation of death a little longer, but hopefully it would work to his good, instead.  
  
As soon as the Men had sat down to eat, he began to work again at the rope binding his wrists. Once he got loose, he would slip the noose from his neck, kick the pony into a run, and be well away before Scar and his minions could scramble to their feet.  
  
They were finished before he was, however, and the leader rose abruptly. 'It doesn't take a dozen of us to do this,' he said. 'The lot of you go on ahead and Bill and I will finish the job. We'll see you in Stock.'  
  
'Save us some beer,' Bill called. 'Scar and me'll work up a powerful thirst ere the evening's work is done.' The Men seemed to find this a fine jest. There was some good-natured raillery, and then as the others jogged out of sight, the two remaining Men turned back to Ferdi.  
  
'Well, well,' Scar said thoughtfully, checking Ferdi's bindings. 'Looks as if we're just in time. The Fox would've worked his way loose in a few minutes more.' He quickly rectified the situation. 'There,' he said. 'All nice and snug again.'  
  
Everything seemed somehow unreal to the hobbit. He saw the bright leaves around him, felt the tickle of the cool breeze on his face, the warm pony hide beneath him. He smelled the earthy scent of the surrounding wood, a tang of smoke on the air, and heard the warning cry of a bird. It did not seem possible that the next breath or the one after that would be his last.  
  
'Are you really the Fox?' Bill asked curiously as he adjusted the noose. 'You look over-young to dance at rope's end.'  
  
'Tooks tend to look younger than they are,' Ferdi answered quietly, the feeling of unreality growing. 'I passed my majority three years ago.'  
  
'And it seems you won't be getting any older,' Scar said, removing the pony's bridle. 'Take yourself a good breath, Master Fox, for it'll be your last.' He stepped to the pony's side and, with a sudden yell, gave the beast a sharp slap on the rump.  
  
The pony bolted out from under Ferdibrand, and suddenly there was no way to breathe as the rope jerked tight and he walked upon the air. The hobbit's hands twitched in an ineffectual effort to reach up and pull the strangling rope loose, but soon he stilled, the world dimming around him. The only sounds on the deserted stretch of road were the creak of the rope and the pony's fading hoofbeats.  
  
'Well, that's--' Scar began, then looked down in confusion at the arrows that had sprouted from his breast. Bill, too, swayed and fell, pierced to the heart.  
  
Hooded hobbits swiftly emerged from the cover of the trees.  
  
'Cut him down, quick!' the leader snapped. Two hobbits locked hands to boost a third high enough to reach up and saw at the rope with his knife. As the last strand parted, others caught the body and eased it down, laying Ferdi gently upon the ground, then one of the hobbits worked his fingers under the rope to pry it loose.  
  
***  
  
'He's stopped breathing,' Ferdi heard one of them say. _Of course I've stopped breathing, _he thought irritably. _It's the sort of thing that happens when people hang you. _  
  
'Ferdi,' Pippin said urgently. His presence should have puzzled Ferdi--Pippin shouldn't be there, he couldn't remember just why, but Ferdi was floating away from pain and effort and nothing seemed to matter much anymore.  
  
A mouth pressed against his, not the sweet kiss of a lass but hard and demanding, and then he heard a rush of air sounding like the smithy's bellows. He felt the air rush in, an odd breathless feeling when he himself was not drawing breath. The pressure was removed and the air sighed out of him again.  
  
'Breathe, Ferdi!' Regi's voice said close to his ear. Had he been able, Ferdibrand might have frowned. Regi had not been in the group of hobbits that cut him down from the tree, any more than Pippin had been. What was he doing here?  
  
He felt the pressure on his mouth again, followed by another rush of air. Afterwards, it seemed that Ferdi's body remembered how to breathe, for his chest began to rise and fall of its own accord.  
  
'Ah, cousin,' came Pippin's voice once more. 'Do not give us such a scare again.' A hand squeezed Ferdi's good hand, and he feebly returned the pressure as he slipped back into dream.


	12. Reunion

**Marion**, thanks for the quick review! It really helps to know that *somebody* is reading (and no reviews, in my mind, equals no readers. I know it's not true, but that's how it seems...) Ummmm. Yes, you noticed that... gap... before things start to look promising between Ferdi and Pimpernel. Well, cannot say more without spoiling future chapters. This story is outlined all the way to their wedding, so I know what is going to happen, but of course, I don't want to spoil it for anybody else. Let's just say there are some good reasons...   
  
 (same comments would apply to anyone puzzling about Ferdi's attitude towards Pippin at the beginning of "FireStorm". There are good reasons... but you shall see, if all goes well and the Muse does not depart for Hawaii before those chapters are written)   
  
**Chapter 12. Reunion**  
  
A knight of Gondor and a knight of the Mark rode knee to knee down the road to Stock, followed by four score of hobbit archers marching in good order.  
  
'At least they haven't been able to cut down _all_ the trees in the Shire,' Pippin commented to Merry.  
  
'Not for want of trying,' Merry returned. He looked grimly at the felled trees scattered haphazardly in the woods to either side, not even harvested for use, but left to lie.  
  
'The woodcutters will be busy,' Pippin said. 'It looks as if they won't need to cut any trees for quite awhile, they'll be so busy making the mess the ruffians left, into something of use.'  
  
They had nearly reached Stock when a voice challenged them. 'Hold! What is your business in the Marish?' A hooded figure stepped out of the shadow of the trees. 'You are covered by archers,' he said grimly. 'Identify yourselves, or things might go ill with you.'  
  
'Things might go ill anyhow,' Pippin muttered, seeing the Tookish archers behind him bridle at the threat. He held up his hand to restrain them, while Merry kneed his pony closer to the challenger.  
  
'Uncle Merimac?' he called.  
  
The figure stiffened. 'Who are you?' he growled. 'Is this some sort of trick?'  
  
Merry slid down from the saddle and removed his helm. 'Do you know me now, Uncle?' he asked.  
  
'It cannot be,' the other said, staggering back a step. 'Hob Hayward came to the Hall with a wild tale about how he'd seen you, but we thought...' He mastered himself, rushing forward to engulf his nephew in a fierce embrace. 'Merry!' he choked. 'I thought... we all thought... only Saradoc never gave up hoping...'  
  
He stepped away and pulled off his hood, then eyed his nephew from curly crown to wooly foot. 'But where have you been?' he asked. 'Foreign parts, it seems.' He looked more closely. 'And if my eyes are not deceiving me, you've grown... at your age!'  
  
'It's a long story,' Merry said, 'better told by the fireside with a glass of brandy in hand... but how is my father?' he asked.  
  
'It has been a difficult year,' Merimac answered soberly. 'But it seems as if we have better times to look forward to, now.' He grasped Merry urgently by the arm. 'Do you come now to greet your parents?' he asked. 'We had heard rumours that you had been seen at the Bridge, and also how two knights appeared with an army of hobbits at Bywater to throw out the ruffians and their bosses, but we did not put the two stories together.'  
  
'We have brought a force from Tookland to scour the woods for ruffians,' Merry answered. 'The Thain is working his way south and west, making sure the ruffians who were at Waymeet and Longbottom are able to find the border. Pippin and I had hoped to stop off at the Hall--'  
  
'Pippin?' Merimac said sharply, then looked to the other knight.  
  
Pippin bowed in the saddle. 'At your service,' he said with a grin.  
  
Merimac shook his head in wonderment. 'I can see there are tales for the telling,' he said. 'But let us get to business: Join me with your archers; we've a nest of rats to clear out just past the old mill before you reach Stock. Once we clear out that little problem, you two can hop the Ferry over to Brandy Hall whilst our fighters are eating and resting to prepare for the next engagement.'  
  
Merry smiled. 'That seems a fine plan, Uncle,' he said. He replaced his helm, got back on his pony, and called to his Uncle. 'Just point us in the right direction, and we'll take care of things.'  
  
Slightly more than four score of archers and two grim knights with shining swords were more than a match for the dozen or so ruffians. Those who resisted were quickly slain, and the few survivors who threw down their weapons at the start were roped together and told to sit down. 'We'll have a bite to eat, and then I'll just march them up the road to the Bridge, and over, while you go to give your parents a proper greeting,' Merimac said. 'We can meet in Stock after breakfast on the morrow.' He cast off his hood, and called to the hooded hobbits who were with him, 'Looks as if we won't be needing these anymore. No more dances with ruffians in the offing, it seems.'  
  
The rest of the hoods came off, revealing several more Brandybuck cousins, some hobbits from Stock, and some from Woody End, including Hally, the woodcarver.  
  
There was much backslapping and joyous greeting from the Brandybuck cousins, towards both of the newly-returned Travellers, as all the hobbits settled down to dig travel rations out of their packs.  
  
Pippin and Merry sat down with Merimac. 'Cousin,' Pippin said quietly, with the slightest nod towards one of the hobbits from Stock sitting nearby. 'The mark on his neck... I saw the same mark on Ferdibrand. What is it?'  
  
Merimac's eyes followed his, and he nodded. 'That's the mark of a survivor,' he said. 'The ruffians gave him a dancing lesson at the end of a rope, but we got to him in time.'  
  
'I don't follow you,' Merry said.  
  
'It's the way they deal with particularly bothersome troublemakers, when they're able to catch one. They call it hanging. They--'  
  
'You don't have to say any more,' Pippin said, feeling slightly sick. He pushed his food away. He'd seen Men hanged on his journeys.  
  
'How is the Fox, anyhow? I'm surprised he's not with you,' Merimac said.  
  
'The Fox?' Merry asked, puzzled, but Pippin had heard the term used at the Smials.  
  
'I'm sorry to say he was gravely wounded at the battle in Bywater,' he said. 'We do not yet know if he will recover from his injuries.'  
  
'It grieves me to hear that,' Merimac said, then sighed. 'A brave lad. 'Twas hobbits like him that kept the ruffians out of Tookland. Had we more like him we might have kept them out of the Shire completely.'  
  
'Fox?' Merry asked again.  
  
Merimas looked at him with a grim smile. 'Yes, lad, he's the Fox and I, would you believe it, am the Badger. 'Twas safer not to go by our own names in the war we've been waging.' He dusted the crumbs of the travel bread from his hands. 'But time is wasting. I'd like to get these Men out of the Shire before the day is out, and you, lads, have a duty to greet the Master and Mistress of Buckland.'  
  
Pippin arranged with Tolly the details for setting up camp in the woods west of Stock, then he and Merry mounted their ponies and rode to the Ferry landing. The Ferry was tied up on the Buckland side, and Merry got down to raise the signal flag. A hobbit came out of a ramshackle shed near the landing, arrow fitted to his bow, ready to shoot.  
  
May I be of aid to you folk?' he said. The strangers were not Man-height, he could see, but somewhat taller than your average hobbit, and outlandishly dressed.  
  
'Clem Claybank, do you not know me?' Merry laughed. 'Many's the time you've seen me over the River on the Ferry!'  
  
'Master Merry?' the other gasped. His bow fell from nerveless fingers, and he put up shaking hands to ward off the knights. 'Be ye a ghost? Please... don't hurt me!'  
  
Merry strode forward quickly, to seize the trembling hands. 'Clem,' he said urgently. 'I'm as real as you are, feel!' He pressed the other's hands. 'Good, solid flesh.'  
  
'You've come back from the dead,' the other muttered, dazed.  
  
'Never was dead, not quite,' Merry said cheerfully. 'Now, how do we get the Ferry to this side?'  
  
'There's a signal I blow,' Clem said. 'If they don't hear it, they won't send the Ferry over.'  
  
'Then blow away!' Merry said. 'I go to greet the Master and Mistress.'  
  
Clem nodded, began to grin, hurried back to the shed, returning with a battered horn in hand. He lifted it to his lips and blew a hunting call. A flag went up on the far side, and he waved, lifting the horn to his lips again.  
  
'Same call?' Merry asked.  
  
'Yes, they want confirmation.'  
  
'Allow me,' Merry said, lifting the silver horn of Rohan, and blowing the call. He watched in satisfaction as the Ferry left the eastern bank and started across the great River.  
  
***  
  
A quiet knock at the study door, and a deferential servant stuck his head in to say, 'Sir, you might want to come. There's two knights coming across on the Ferry from the Shire proper.'  
  
'Two knights?' Saradoc, Master of Buckland, asked.  
  
'Yes, Sir,' came the answer. 'That's what I said. Knights.'  
  
Saradoc looked to his steward, then out the window, which afforded a panoramic view of the River and the Ferry landing. 'Your eyes see farther than mine, Cardoc,' he said.  
  
The steward rose to look, then nodded. 'They appear to be knights, Master,' he said. 'A bit taller than the Ferry hobbits, but not much. They're riding ponies, not horses.'  
  
Saradoc rose. 'Let's go down to greet them,' he said. 'Rumour said that knights had come to rouse the Shire against the ruffians.'  
  
'I'll have archers standing by, just in case,' Cardoc said quietly. 'It might be a trick of the ruffians.'  
  
'I don't think so,' the Master said, 'Something tells me... but go ahead and give the order anyhow.'  
  
As he exited, he noted that half the Hall had heard the clear horn call and come to see what was happening. His own wife, Esmeralda, was waiting at the main entrance. She took his arm, and they walked down to the Ferry landing together, just as the Ferry docked.  
  
The knights stepped off, leading their ponies, and stopped to see the multitude gathered to confront them.  
  
Saradoc disengaged his wife's arm and stepped forward. 'Greetings, my Lords,' he said, bowing deeply. 'I am told we are beholden to two knights who called the Shirefolk to arms to cast out the ruffians. Would you be the ones?'  
  
Merry was struck speechless with dismay at the sight of his father... bowing to _him_. At a loss for words, he removed his helm and stood hesitating.  
  
Esmeralda gave a choked cry and stumbled forwards, throwing her arms about her son and weeping with abandon. Merry awkwardly embraced her, smiling down at her, whispering comfort.  
  
When the knight smiled, Saradoc suddenly recognised his son. 'Merry,' he whispered, standing stock still. 'Meriadoc.'  
  
His son looked up, then moved to his father with his mother still clinging to his side, to throw his free arm about Saradoc. 'Father,' he answered. 'I'm home.' He looked back to where Pippin stood silent, having removed his own helm. 'Pip's here, too.'  
  
'Peregrin!' Esmeralda sobbed, reaching a hand towards her nephew, and Pippin strode forward to join the joyous embrace.


	13. Shadows

Chapter 13. Shadows  
  
There had been much joy and celebration and feasting and song and laughter in Brandy Hall that night. The Brandybucks stayed up well into the middle night to welcome home the travellers, and the celebration might have lasted until the dawn had not the Master shooed everyone off to bed at last.  
  
'Peregrin and Meriadoc are to meet Merimac in Stock, after breakfast, and he will expect them to be punctual!'  
  
'They had better be, then!' someone shouted. 'I'd rather face a hundred ruffians than come late to a meeting with Merimac!' The great room erupted in laughter, and the Brandybucks began to disperse.  
  
Saradoc and Esmeralda walked the lads to their rooms, pausing for a last embrace at the door. Esmeralda wordlessly held her son for a long moment, and when she looked up, he was smiling down at her. 'I know, Mother,' he said. 'I know.' She smiled and released him.  
  
'I will see you at breakfast.' The familiar words brought tears to her eyes, tears of joy and of wonder, for she'd thought she'd never have occasion to say them again. Then, catching her scamp of a nephew in a great yawn, she scolded. 'Be off with you! It's past your bedtime!'  
  
Saradoc laughed and added, 'You'd better heed your aunt, or she's likely to take you over her knee.'  
  
'At least I have mail to protect me this time,' Pippin laughed. He kissed his aunt and disappeared into his room.  
  
***  
  
Sometime between the middle night and dawn, the Master of Buckland awakened with the feeling that something was not right. He lay in bed, listening to his wife's peaceful breathing, wondering what had awakened him, then noticed that the door was ajar, the soft illumination from the watchlamps in the corridor shining through the open space.  
  
He arose quietly from the bed and crept to the door. Pushing it further open, he saw nothing at first, but looking down the corridor, he saw his son Merry place his hand on yet another doorknob, hesitate, then turn the knob and open the door slowly, only to shake his head and turn away.  
  
'Meriadoc!' he called softly, but his son did not seem to hear him, instead turning away to walk slowly to the next door. As he was moving forward, wondering what to do, Pippin slipped past him, to take Merry's arm, speaking in a low, but cheerful voice.  
  
'There you are, cousin!'  
  
Merry turned haunted eyes to him. 'Dark,' he said. 'It's so dark, and I cannot find the light.'  
  
'I know just where to find it,' Pippin said, urging Merry back towards his own room. His eyes met Saradoc's, and he shook his head slightly. Saradoc followed the two, watched as Pippin led his cousin to the bed, eased him down, pulled up the covers, all the while talking cheerful nonsense softly enough that no other sleepers might be roused.  
  
'I see the trouble,' he said. 'The watch lamp has gone out.' Saradoc moved to light the watch lamp, and Pippin said, 'Light the other lamps as well, will you, Uncle?' The Master complied. Pippin laid his hand on Merry's shoulder under the coverlet. 'Stay,' he said, 'Rest here a moment, Merry.'  
  
The other did not respond, but Pippin nodded, still smiling, and turned away from the bed. 'Build up the fire,' he said to Saradoc, then left the room. He soon returned with the lamps from his own bedroom, which he proceeded to light, and with the cheerful fire and all the lamps, the room was soon as brightly lit as possible.  
  
It hardly seemed likely, but Merry's eyes had closed and he seemed to be sleeping peacefully again. 'He was never completely awake,' Pippin murmured to Saradoc. 'He should be able to sleep the rest of this night.' He sighed, then patted his uncle on the shoulder. 'Go, seek your own bed. Your son is well, now.'  
  
Saradoc returned slowly to his own bed, knowing that Merry might be many things, but he was most definitely not well.  
  
***  
  
In the morning, Ilberic Brandybuck hailed Pippin as he entered the great room where a breakfast feast was being laid.  
  
'I suppose you want that pony of yours back, cousin!'  
  
'My pony?' Pippin said. 'Socks?'  
  
'Yes, that's the one,' Ilberic laughed. 'Aunt Essie put him in my charge, and I will be glad to hand him back to you. He's all fire and very little sense.'  
  
'He has a great deal of sense, with sensible people,' Pippin retorted. 'Obviously he found you wanting!'  
  
'Hah,' Ilberic rejoined, clapping his hand on the other's shoulder. 'Come out to the stables. He wants an outing before breakfast each day, or he'll kick out his stall, and the Master takes a dim view of such things.' Laughing, the two exited the Hall.  
  
The Brandybucks sat down to breakfast, talking and laughing. Merry showed no sign of the interrupted night, as animated as the rest of his relations.  
  
'Where's Pip?' he asked Doderic, who sat nearby.  
  
'Out with that rascal of a pony of his,' Doderic answered. 'Ilberic thought he'd be stuck with the beast forever; he is very glad to see Pippin back safe!'  
  
'And that reminds me, cousin,' Berilac said. 'You'll find your own Bright Nose in fine fettle. I groomed him to within an inch of his life this morning, and as long as he hasn't laid himself down in the straw again, he'll gleam like the Sun herself, on rising, when you ride him out to meet my father.'  
  
Merry laughed. 'That is good news!' he said. 'I missed the lad.'  
  
'Well he hardly missed you!' Doderic laughed. 'Berilac has spoilt him shamefully, and unless you treat him like a king and a prince together he'll hardly speak a word to you, I fear.'  
  
'I will forgive Socks all the stalls he's kicked out,' Saradoc said, 'if any of his foals turns out to be as fast as the sire.'  
  
'You bred him?' Merry said.  
  
'Ahem,' Saradoc cleared his throat. 'As a matter of fact, he took the matter into his own hands... hoofs... whatever.'  
  
'There's not a fence that will contain that pony, if he does not want to be contained,' Doderic said amongst the general laughter. 'Starlight was one of the dams; she threw a foal as black as a shadow in the middle night, and...' he looked at his cousin. 'Merry?'  
  
A faraway look had come over the other's face, and he did not respond to the question.  
  
'Is aught amiss, Son?' Saradoc asked softly. Merry shook his head, attempted to smile, but he put down his fork and did not eat any more.  
  
Pippin breezed in then, kissing his aunt and apologising for his tardiness. 'That Socks!' he said proudly. 'He's got as much spirit as he ever did! Threw me off the first time I mounted, but he soon remembered me.'  
  
He looked at Merry's plate and said, 'But you shouldn't have waited for me, cousin! Look at that, what a shame, your food's gone cold!' He gestured to a server, picking up Merry's plate. 'Here, bring a fresh plate at the same time you bring mine, will you?'  
  
When the food was brought, under Pippin's relentless onslaught of cheer Merry picked up his fork and once again began to eat.  
  
Saradoc met Esmeralda's eyes, and she nodded. She would prevail upon her brother the Thain, for Pippin to spend as much time at the Hall as possible.  
  
Most of the occupants of the Hall followed the twain down to the Ferry landing. The Travellers made a bright and brave sight, in their shining mail, leading their ponies. Doderic and Ilberic had groomed the beasts until they shone, one as bright as flame, the other the colour of smoke in a pale sky.  
  
At the Ferry landing, the lads embraced the Master and Mistress a last time. 'We won't be back until the Shire is scoured clean!' Pippin laughed.  
  
'But as they are no match for us, we'll be back well in time for Yule,' Merry added. 'A New Year, and a fresh beginning.'  
  
Saradoc nodded--he certainly hoped so--and stepped back from his son. 'Stay well,' he said.  
  
'We will!' Pippin answered, and turned to lead his restless pony onto the Ferry. 'Coming, Merry?'  
  
'I'm right behind you,' Merry said. He hugged Esmeralda again, then said, 'I'm expecting a Yule feast with all the trimmings.'  
  
'You'll get it!' his mother smiled, and stepped back as he turned to go. Saradoc's arm found her waist, and they stood together, watching the Ferry all the way across the River, watching as the lads led the ponies off on the other side, watching... until the knights mounted their ponies and rode out of sight, under the shadow of the trees on the far side. 


	14. Task

Notes to Readers:  
  
First, an unofficial survey... are these notes okay where they are? Or would you prefer them at the end of the chapter instead of up front?  
  
Pansy, loved the glimpse into your home just now. Your daughter sounds cute. Sorry, I am already married, but the Muse might be available. No, she says, she's not. But she's always available for tea and conversation, especially if you promise pina coladas amongst the tea treats.  
  
Marion, intriguing idea, the Big Folk finding out about Ferdi's rope scar... must admit I hadn't thought of it. Will see if I can fit it in, it does sound like it might add a nice touch. And thanks for mentioning that you check daily, makes me feel more motivated to keep updating. Yes, Aunt Essie's threat to take Pip over her knee goes 'way back. Will have to write that story, someday, for sure.  
  
Hai, you said, "Does Pippin have a tiff with his father that leads him to stay in Brandy Hall? I don't remember if you covered that. You have so many stories! You should put them up on a web page or in the bio section in chronilogical order! That way I could read them all again, in some what of an order! lol, maybe that would help be keep it all straight! Still loving it!" What bio section? Where? As to the web page... well, there is one in the works, but I cannot say more at this time. I do have my own private timeline that, for the most part, keeps me straight (when I don't make math errors in my calculations, such as Estella Bolger's age...) And yes, in Jewels, you will see hints of such a tiff. I forget what chapter, but it's after Frodo goes to the Havens and Pippin shows up with an early birthday present, and everyone's wondering if the Thain has disowned him "again". Hmmmm. Am still working out the details, but you'll know more soon, if Muse will just keep whispering.  
  
All, It seems to me, from what I've read about DSS ("delayed stress") that both Merry and Pippin would be suffering nightmares, at the very least. Sam, too, but he doesn't come into this story at this point (and may not, much, anyhow, as he did not move in Ferdi's circles). So you will be seeing a reflection of that in this story.  
  
***  
  
Chapter 14. Task  
  
A week later, Pippin returned to the Smials for fresh supplies, along with Merry, half the Tookish archers--for the Thain insisted that his son have a heavy escort as long as any ruffians remained in the land--and Merimac Brandybuck. The Badger left his force of irregulars in Woody End to sniff out the hiding places of more ruffians, the better to attack them when he returned.  
  
The Thain had been in and left again the previous day, off to rout more ruffians out of the southwest part of the Shire. Most of the ruffians had fled out of the land, offering little resistance, but there were a few pockets of Men left who were a bit... slow in leaving, trying to gather a few spoils on their way to the border. Thain Paladin enjoyed hurrying these along, relieving them of their extra burdens along the way, and returning any possessions that could be traced to their owners.  
  
Pippin found Ferdibrand sitting propped up on cushions in his bed, much improved from the previous week.  
  
'So your head is harder than a ruffian's club?' he said as he poked his head in at the door.  
  
'So it seems,' Ferdi answered. 'Come in, cousin, rest your feet for a spell.'  
  
'That I will,' Pippin replied, and slouching into a chair by the bed, he put his feet up onto the bed and sighed.  
  
'Comfy?' Ferdi asked.  
  
'Quite,' Pippin replied.  
  
'Now would not be a good time to ask you to get up and fetch me somewhat, I take it.'  
  
'Not particularly, no,' Pippin said, opening one eye.  
  
'What did you need, Ferdi?' Everard asked from the other side of the bed.  
  
'O naught,' Ferdi said wickedly. 'Just testing.'  
  
'He's well on the road to recovery,' Everard said.  
  
'I can see that,' Pippin answered.  
  
'With your eyes closed?' Ferdi asked.  
  
'I'm gifted that way,' Pippin said. 'Now would you hold the noise down long enough for me to get a bit of rest?'  
  
'Who's the patient, here?' Ferdi demanded.  
  
'You are, of course,' Pippin said, eyes remaining closed. 'And why do they call it being a patient when it makes you feel so impatient, is what I'd like to know.'  
  
'None of your nonsense, now, lad,' Everard said. 'Ferdi, the healer said you could stay up an hour or so, but it's time for you to sleep again.' Ferdibrand started to protest, only to be interrupted by a snore from Pippin.  
  
When Everard would have shaken his cousin, Ferdi held up his good hand to stop him. 'Leave him be,' he said. 'I find it rather cosy; you know, I never thought I'd hear Pip snoring again in this life.'  
  
'You'll tire of it soon enough,' Everard said.  
  
'No doubt,' Ferdi answered, his own lids growing heavy. 'But...' What he would have said trailed away into a snore of his own.  
  
When Ferdi awakened later, Pippin was still snoring lightly, but Merimac had taken Everard's place by the other side of the bed. When the older hobbit saw his eyes open, he said, 'Hullo, Fox.'  
  
'Hullo, Badger,' Ferdi replied. 'How goes the hunt?'  
  
'It goes. We're sweeping them out like the lasses sweep the dust out the door on Last Day. They'll be gone before Year's End, at this rate.'  
  
'And good riddance,' Ferdi said fervently. 'I hope never to see a Man eye to eye again.'  
  
'I'll drink to that,' Merimac said, and poured out two cups of water. They toasted solemnly, and drank.  
  
'There are good Men in the world,' Pippin said, suddenly awake. 'Why, I have some very good friends who are Men.'  
  
'More pity you,' Ferdi said. He started to shake his head but thought the better of it.  
  
Pimpernel breezed in with a tray of food. 'Teatime!' she caroled, putting down the tray, spreading a serviette under Ferdi's chin, and fixing a cup of tea to his liking. When Pippin reached for one of the sandwiches, she slapped his hand. 'You go get your own,' she scolded. 'You're not stuck in a bed.'  
  
'I might have to try it sometime, just to get some attention around here,' Pippin drawled, but his sister merely tossed her head with a sniff.  
  
'Would you fetch me a cup, lass?' Merimac asked, and she turned a smile on him. 'Certainly, Mr Brandybuck,' she said. 'I should be most happy to oblige.'  
  
'I like that!' Pippin said.  
  
'He is an honoured guest,' Pimpernel said loftily. 'You are merely a younger brother.'  
  
'That's telling him, Nell,' Ferdi said, and Pimpernel flashed him a smile before leaving the room.  
  
'Whatever are you buttering her up for?' Pippin said, stealing a sandwich from the plate.  
  
'She is a sweet and thoughtful lass,' Ferdi said ponderously, taking a bite of sandwich. Pippin snorted and took a piece of cake. Ferdi added, 'And she makes the best apple tart I've ever tasted.'  
  
'Apple tart?' Merimac said, coming to attention. 'Let me see some of that.' Between them, they managed to polish off the contents of Ferdi's tea tray before Pimpernel returned with a cup for Merimac, and, despite the earlier scolding, one for Pippin as well.  
  
She smiled down at Ferdi. 'Well,' she said, 'It's nice to see you're getting your appetite back. Or...' she cast a suspicious glance at Pippin and Merimac, '...did these two ruffians go gathering and sharing your tea?'  
  
'I fear we did all the gathering, and he did all the sharing,' Merimac said, 'but if you'll cut some more of that lovely apple tart for an old hobbit, I'd be happy to carry a fresh tray to the poor Fox, now.'  
  
He was as good as his word, and so Ferdi got his tea after all, and was all the better for the company that came along with it.  
  
They were laughing uproariously at some tale of Pippin's when Healer Woodruff stormed through the door, scolding like a magpie. 'Off with ye, now,' she said fiercely. 'Haven't ye a lick of sense? This is a sick hobbit you're disturbing! Laughter is good, but too much of a good thing can be bad!' She took a look at Ferdi's face and said, 'Ye've done enough mischief for one day, tired him more than is good for him. Now, out! All of you! And let him get some rest!'  
  
Ferdi winked at the others behind her back, then let the healer settle him for sleeping. 'I'm well, really, Woodruff,' he said with a yawn. 'Never felt better.'  
  
'You will feel better, lad,' she said more gently, pulling up the covers, 'if ye don't die laughing, first. Now go to sleep,' she said. 'I might let them visit you on the morrow, if they promise to be good.'  
  
'I'm always good,' Pippin protested.  
  
'Aye, that you are, lad,' Woodruff agreed equably, then scowled. '...when you aren't getting into mischief, that is. Now off with you.' The last was spoken in a whisper, as Ferdi's eyes had already drifted shut and he was breathing evenly. Pippin and Merimac nodded, and with exaggerated caution, tiptoed from the room.  
  
***  
  
The next time Pippin returned from the hunt, it was the First of December and Yuletide preparations were in full swing. He found Ferdibrand out of bed, in a chair, and said, 'This is quite the improvement!'  
  
'You're telling me,' Ferdi said. 'I was beginning to think I'd take root in the bed.'  
  
'Well, I'm glad they pulled you out of the flower bed, you weed of a Took,' Pippin said.  
  
'Hardly ornamental,' Ferdi agreed, putting his good hand to his head.  
  
'Are you all right, cousin?' Pippin asked more softly.  
  
'Just an ache,' Ferdi said. 'Not as bad as it was.' He looked ruefully at his heavily bandaged and splinted bow arm. 'Head'll be better sooner than the arm, I warrant. D'you think the Thain can use a one-armed archer?'  
  
'It'll be a first,' Pippin said, 'but I'll ask him.'  
  
'No, don't,' Ferdi said suddenly. He looked down at his lap, then up at Pippin. 'I don't want pity, and I don't want charity.'  
  
'None intended,' Pippin answered soberly. He tried to lighten the other's mood. 'I suppose you could always apply as stable sweeper.'  
  
Ferdi shook his head. 'No, that wouldn't work. We nearly burned down the stables, remember?'  
  
Pippin nodded, 'Ah, that's right, I nearly forgot.'  
  
'You can be sure none of the other Tooks will forget,' Ferdi said. He stretched his good arm. 'Ah, well, I'm sure I'll figure out something I can do.'  
  
By mid-December, Pippin was back at the Smials for good, with the remainder of the ruffians hounded out of the Shire. The Thain set a watch on the borders, to make sure none would try to return, and then gave his full attention to ordering the Great Smials.  
  
He called Ferdibrand to his study. Ferdi was up and about, restless for something to do, but hindered by the splinted arm.  
  
'Sir,' he said, standing at attention before the ornate desk.  
  
'Sit yourself down, lad,' the Thain said, sharp eyes noting the other's pallor. Ferdi was not completely recovered, he could see, but the healers had as much trouble keeping that one abed as they did the Thain's own son. He admired such spirit; properly channeled, he could put it to good use.  
  
'I have a task for you, should you decide to accept it.'  
  
Ferdi sat up straighter. 'A task?' he asked.  
  
'Aye,' the Thain said. 'Now that my son is back, he needs a proper escort. I'd like to have you in charge.' He shuffled a few papers on the desk, then looked up to say, 'My son is already installed in his rooms, and of course there is a spare bed there; he may have traipsed halfway across Middle- earth, but he is still a tween.'  
  
'Yes, Sir,' Ferdi said. By custom, Tookish children and tweens did not rate a private room until they reached their majority. Either a relative or a servant shared their room until they were considered adults. Ferdi wondered how Pippin would feel about this, after experiencing relative freedom from the restrictions of custom and propriety.  
  
'He's willful,' the Thain said, 'and headstrong. He'll lead you a merry dance.'  
  
'I know,' Ferdi said.  
  
'Of course, if you serve him well, he might take you on his staff when he's Thain after me,' Paladin said. 'Many's the steward started out as a tween- minder.'  
  
Ferdi nodded, hope beginning to stir within. Perhaps there was some use for a one-armed Took after all. Even if he did not regain use of his bow arm, he might have some contribution to make.  
  
'Will you take on the job?' Paladin asked.  
  
'I'll do my best, Sir,' Ferdi answered.  
  
'That's all I ask,' Paladin said. 'Just your best.'  
  
***  
  
Pippin did snore, but not enough to disrupt Ferdi's sleep. The nightmares were another story. Night after night, the son of the Thain would cry out in his sleep, and Ferdi would waken, go to the other's bed, sit down, and speak soothing words until he quieted again.  
  
Some nights were worse than others. Once, Ferdi was awakened from a sound sleep by a thin, keening cry. Sitting bolt upright, he jumped from his bed and rushed to his cousin.  
  
'It's all right, cousin, just a dream,' he soothed, but Pippin lay stiff in his bed, eyes wide, scarcely breathing. 'Pip?' Ferdi said, alarmed.  
  
In an unearthly voice, Pippin said, 'It is not for you, Saruman! I will send for it at once! Say just that!'  
  
'Pip?' Ferdi said, shaking his cousin lightly, but Pippin only put his hands over his face and began to keen again. A lamp came up in the doorway, and Ferdi looked up to see the Thain and his wife.  
  
'What is it?' Eglantine said, moving to her son's bed.  
  
'Some sort of nightmare,' Ferdi answered, 'but I cannot waken him.'  
  
'Son?' Eglantine coaxed, rubbing Pippin's arm. 'Son?'  
  
Pippin gave a shuddering sigh and threw his arms about his mother, sobbing bitterly.  
  
Ferdi looked worriedly to the Thain, but the old hobbit was as horrified as himself. Finally, the fit seemed to pass, and Eglantine eased her son down on the bed again, crooning a lullaby, smoothing the hair over his forehead, until he was once again breathing evenly in sleep.  
  
For the most part, Ferdi became quite adept at easing his younger cousin back to sleep, and was annoyed when Meriadoc Brandybuck popped up at the Smials for a visit just before Yuletide.  
  
'I'll just take the extra bed in Pip's room, I'm sure you won't mind, Ferdi,' he said breezily.  
  
'Not at all,' Ferdi lied. He wasn't so sure he liked the idea of Merry knowing that Pippin's sleep was torn by nightmares each night, but there wasn't much he could do about it, being so far outranked by the other.  
  
He settled that night in the next room, on a sofa pulled close to the doorway. He bolted upright in the middle night, hearing the unearthly keening that had so unnerved him a few days before.  
  
When he reached the doorway, he saw Merry sitting by the bed, holding Pippin's hand. 'It's all right, Pip,' he said. 'They're gone, now, all of them gone. They can't hurt you anymore.'  
  
'Who can't hurt him?' Ferdi asked quietly.  
  
Merry met his eyes, then looked back down. 'They're gone, Pip,' he said again. 'It was just a dream.'  
  
Pippin sighed and turned on his side, snuggling into his pillows. 'Go back to bed, Ferdi,' Merry said. 'We're all right, here.'  
  
Ferdi considered throwing another log on Pippin's fire, but could not bring himself to do so. Though it was one of Ferdi's duties as his cousin's minder, Pippin had quietly assumed the fire-building and tending duties, to spare his cousin from having to deal with the flames. Now Merry followed his gaze, and said, 'Leave the fire, it's fine. Go back to bed, Ferdi.'  
  
Ferdibrand nodded, and took himself off to the sofa, to sleep restlessly until morning. When he awakened, he cautiously poked his head in the door, to see Merry still sitting on the bed, holding Pippin's hand, back against the headboard, asleep. 


	15. Nightscares

Xena, Thanks for all the lovely reviews. I feel as if I can tackle another "Ferdi" chapter this morning, even though I don't want to... the chapter I'm writing in now is rather forlorn; I would much rather write joy, or at the very least, excitement... ah, well, that'll come.   
  
Hai, O yes, that author's page, hadn't thought of that. I wonder if I could cut and paste my own private timeline into it. Much of what is currently going on in "Flames" runs concurrently with the early chapters of "Jewels". Of course, the Tooks would not have known about Merry's bouts with Shadow at Long Cleeve and Crickhollow, and probably not much about visits to Long Cleeve, so they are not mentioned in "Flames" though you may assume that everything in "Jewels" is still happening, in the background, out of sight of the characters at the Great Smials. I just hope I can write the intersecting points clearly enough that "Flames" can stand alone if need be. That author's page... Will have to check it out.   
  
Pansy, the Muse thanks you. And, yes, Ferdi would have two hobbits to mind, if Merry needed minding. But he's already come "of age", so he's more likely to be a minder than need one. As it is, I'm afraid Merry's going to take over Ferdi's job and leave him at loose ends. So *now* what is a one-armed hobbit supposed to do with himself?   
  
Dana, Lovely to hear from you again. Glad you're able to post reviews once more. I just love it when you "hit the highlights".  
  
**15. Nightscares**  
  
Merry returned to Brandy Hall for Yule, but Deputy Mayor Frodo turned up just before teatime on Last Day, to be warmly greeted by the Tooks, for all that he was half a Brandybuck. He'd given up the wild idea of living in Buckland and come back to settle down in civilised parts, not Tookland, but close, at Bag End in Hobbiton.  
  
They forgave him his oddities and past errors in light of his sensible performance as Deputy Mayor, reducing the number of Shirriffs to the proper number, and otherwise keeping his nose out of other people's business.  
  
'The next time you take it into your head to go off wandering,' Paladin said, slapping him on the back after he dismounted brown Strider, 'just leave our Pip at home, d'ye hear?'  
  
Frodo laughed. 'I tried, this time, but he wasn't having any.'  
  
The Thain snorted. 'He's a contrary one,' he agreed. 'Still, I have great hopes for the lad; he gave a good accounting of himself as we threw out the ruffians. I hope he was not a bother to you on your journey.'  
  
Frodo shook his head, keeping a straight face with some difficulty. 'Only here and there,' he said, thinking of a certain stone dropped into a well, among other things. 'For the most part he acquitted himself well. Saved Merry's life at least once, and several others' lives along the way.'  
  
'I have trouble believing that,' Paladin said quietly 'The lad has hardly a thought in his head, most times.'  
  
'He's a very good head on his shoulders, indeed,' Frodo said, putting an arm about the Thain's shoulders to walk into the Smials with him. One who had faced Shelob had naught to fear from a mere Thain, after all. 'Don't you go selling him short. ...now, how about some of that ale the Smials is so famous for?'  
  
Ferdi fully expected to give up his bed once again, but though Frodo had turned down offer of a room of his own in the well-appointed guest quarters, giving the excuse that he wanted to talk over old times with his cousin, he insisted, over Ferdi's protest, on sleeping upon the sofa just outside Pippin's room. It was hardly the place for an honoured guest to sleep, but Frodo prevailed.  
  
When the nightly trouble started, Ferdi started up in his bed, only to see Frodo already sitting on the bed by Pippin, holding his young cousin's hand. Once he had soothed Pippin back to quiet sleep, he came to sit on Ferdi's bed.  
  
'Does this happen each night?' he asked softly.  
  
Ferdi nodded. 'Pretty much,' he said.  
  
Frodo shook his head. 'I wonder...' he said. 'We weren't troubled by nightmares on the journey home, but then, we hobbits slept huddled together, rather like a heap of pups, for warmth, safety, and comfort.' He sighed. 'It still seems odd to me, to sleep in a bed, alone.'  
  
'So are you suggesting that I get him a dog to sleep with?' Ferdi said. Frodo laughed quietly and shook his head. 'No,' he answered, 'but I think it's rather early to part him from Merry.' He looked again at his sleeping cousin. 'I know you're his minder, now, but for the past year he's had folk in plenty watching over him, the three of us Shirefolk, a wizard, an elf, a dwarf, and assorted Men.'   
  
'Probably took that many,' Ferdi muttered, and Frodo chuckled.  
  
'No doubt,' he said. 'But most especially, Merry minded him. He and Merry had some terrible experiences,' he did not mention his own, of course, 'and they saw each other through. Now that they're back, safe, they don't have to be on guard all the time against danger... it's when you let down your guard that the memories come back to worry you.'  
  
Ferdi nodded. He'd had a bit of experience with that, as well.  
  
'I would not have separated the two of them so quickly,' Frodo continued. 'A gradual weaning process might have been safer.'  
  
'Safer?' Ferdi questioned the choice of word, but Frodo nodded soberly.  
  
***  
  
Merry's sleepwalking continued, not every night, but often enough that Saradoc quietly detailed Brandybuck cousins to keep nightly watch in the corridor outside his rooms. When he'd emerge from his door, the watcher would intercept him, guide him gently back to bed, and sit with him until he was once again peacefully asleep.  
  
On the eve of Last Day, it was Berilac's turn to watch. He was sleepy from the festive Yuletide activities, and less than alert as he settled at his post. Nothing had happened the last few nights, anyhow, since Merry had returned from the Great Smials; perhaps he was settling in again, now that all the excitement of rousting the ruffians was well past.  
  
Berilac found himself nodding, and rose to walk up and down the corridor a few times before seating himself again. There, he was awake now, he told himself. He didn't realise when reality became dream, sleep crept up on him so gradually, and since he dreamed he was sitting on watch in the corridor, he wasn't alarmed at his lack of alertness.  
  
Suddenly, he jerked awake, and then he started to feel the first stirrings of unease. The doors along the corridor were all ajar. He peeked his head into Merry's room to find the bed empty.  
  
Berilac worked his way along the corridor, not seeing a soul, and down into the main part of the Hall, still with no sign of Merry.  
  
He came out the main entrance to the Hall and confronted the guard standing there. Even though no ruffians had been seen since mid-December, the Master had deemed it prudent to continue posting guards until he was sure they were gone.  
  
'Toby,' Berilac said urgently. 'Did the young master come this way?'  
  
'Why, yes, as a matter of fact, he did,' the other said equably. 'I thought he must be drunk. Muttered something about it being too dark to sleep. I asked if he wanted a breath of air, and he just brushed past me.'  
  
'Which way did he go?' Berilac demanded.  
  
'Down to the River, I think. It's right pretty this night.'  
  
Berilac didn't answer, just took off at a run over the icy grass towards the River, gleaming like silver ribbon in the moonlight. As he got nearer, he could see mist curling up from the water into the freezing air.  
  
'Merry!' he shouted, but there was no answer.  
  
When he reached the water's edge, he strained his eyes, finally making out a dark shape _in_ the River, a little further downstream. He ran along the bank, then splashed into the water. Merry was already waist-deep, and wading deeper, when his cousin reached him, and Berilac could feel the current tugging at them both.  
  
'Merry!' he gasped. 'What do you think you're doing?'  
  
Merry didn't answer, merely tried to pull his arm free, to keep walking.  
  
Berilac then remembered something Pippin had said, and forcing a smile, he said as cheerfully as he could manage, 'Fine time you pick for a swim, cousin! Let us go in, now, my feet are freezing!' He forced a laugh, and to his relief, Merry turned to look at him.  
  
'Berilac?' he said, puzzled. 'What are you doing here?'  
  
Berilac maintained his cheerful tone, though his teeth were chattering. 'I was about to ask you the same thing.'  
  
Merry pointed vaguely to the other bank. 'Don't you see him?' he said. 'He's there, waiting. He followed us to the Ferry, you know.'  
  
'Who?' Berilac asked. He could see nothing but mist and shadow.  
  
'He's calling me,' Merry said, and tried to pull away again.  
  
'No, cousin,' Berilac said, desperately grasping at something to sway Merry from his course. A few more steps and the current would sweep them off their feet. 'No, he's turned away, see? He's decided it's too late for tonight. Perhaps he'll try again on the morrow.'  
  
'Perhaps,' Merry said, and stopped pulling forward.  
  
'Come, now,' Berilac encouraged. 'Help me out, my feet don't seem to be working very well.' In truth he couldn't feel his feet, or legs, either; they were numb with the chill of the icy water.  
  
'You want some help?' Merry asked vaguely.  
  
'Please,' Berilac said, shivering violently. He could hardly get the word out for the chattering of his teeth.  
  
'Very well, cousin, let's get you back to the Hall,' Merry said, and turned back towards the bank. Together they waded out of the River, and Merry supported his staggering cousin back to the Hall, to the astonishment of Toby at the entrance.  
  
'What happened?' the guard said. 'Did he fall in? And you had to go rescue him?'  
  
'Something like that,' Berilac said. He guided Merry to his room, shucked off his cousin's freezing, dripping clothes, tucked him into his bed, and built up the fire in the bedroom hearth as large as he could manage. He warmed himself by Merry's fire for quite awhile before he was able to take himself off, tap on Doderic's door, ask him to take over the watch. Then, cold and exhausted, he fell into his own bed.  
  
In the morning, Berilac did not come to breakfast, though the festive Last Day atmosphere throughout the Hall was enough to waken the dead from sleep.  
  
'I believe he took a chill last night,' Saradoc said in reply to his son's query.  
  
'How did he do that?'  
  
'He took himself out for a breath of air,' Doderic said. 'Rumour is he'd had too much to drink.'  
  
Merry shook his head. 'I thought he had more sense than that,' he frowned, stabbing a piece of fried bread. 'It must be freezing out there.'  
  
'I believe you have the right of it, Son,' Saradoc said quietly, and applied himself to his own breakfast. He had sent a message off by quick post to Frodo, who was responsible, after all, for taking his son off in the first place. Perhaps Frodo would have an idea of how to bring him back again.


	16. Holiday

**16. Holiday**  
  
Ferdi was out of a job. The Thain and the visiting Master of Buckland had closeted themselves in the Thain's study, and emerged soberly after some time, but in full agreement.  
  
'Pippin will be taking a holiday,' Thain Paladin told Ferdi later in the day. 'He and his cousin Merry will be spending time together, either here, or at Brandy Hall, and since Merry will be minding him, he won't need an escort for the nonce.'  
  
'Yes, Sir,' Ferdibrand said without expression, but some of his bleakness must have shown through, for the Thain looked at him kindly.  
  
'You just give more attention to getting that arm working properly again,' Paladin said. 'You'll be back on full escort duty before you know it.'  
  
'Yes, Sir,' Ferdi said again, and left as soon as the Thain excused him.  
  
He had one more day of minding Pippin, before the rest of Saradoc's party would arrive on the morrow, including his cousin Merry.  
  
Pippin was with him as Healer Woodruff removed the splints for the last time, and began to examine the arm. Ferdi looked in dismay at the shriveled muscles. Woodruff had him wiggle his fingers, nodding in satisfaction at the result, and carefully felt her way up and down the arm, settling back at last.  
  
'The bones have knit straight and true,' she said. 'You've a lot of work ahead of you, to strengthen the arm and get it working properly, but there's a good chance you'll have most of what you had before.' She rolled up her sleeves. 'Let's get started.'  
  
'What's the point?' Ferdi said gloomily, looking at his wreck of an arm. 'It looks as if all it's fit for is to occupy a sling.'  
  
'You'll do as you're told,' Pippin said authoritatively. 'I'm supposed to ride out on Socks with Hilly and Tolly this morning, you know, but if you don't cooperate with Woodruff, I'll stay to pester you instead.'  
  
'You won't,' Ferdi said.  
  
'Yes,' Pippin said smugly, 'I will. And Socks will kick out his stall, and it'll be _your_ fault.'  
  
'I'm already in trouble with the stable hobbits as it is,' Ferdi said.  
  
'That's right! What with burning down the stables...'  
  
'_Nearly_ burning down the stables,' Ferdi interrupted, only to have Woodruff silence him with a stern look.  
  
'You go on ahead, Master Peregrin,' Woodruff said coolly. 'I know how to mind your minder perfectly well without any help.'  
  
'Very well,' Pippin said regally. 'I shall see you at second breakfast, Ferdi.'  
  
'I'll be there with bells on,' Ferdi said.  
  
'I'm counting on it,' Pippin replied, and left the room with the usual bounce in his step.  
  
***  
  
'Where are the bells?' Pippin wanted to know as he sat down beside Ferdi, and without waiting for an answer, he attacked his plate of food voraciously. 'Mmmm,' he said with his mouth full. 'A morning ride makes food taste so much better, why is that?'  
  
'None of your nonsense, now, Pip,' Ferdi said. 'I'm not in the mood to hear it.' Tolly and Hilly would go back to being the Thain's escort, but he would be stuck on guard duty, standing outside one of the entrances to the Smials, probably, in the biting wind, putting up with hours of chilling boredom, or just inside the door, to turn the knob and hold the door open for someone who mattered. At least it was a job.  
  
'The Brandybucks are coming tomorrow, isn't that marvelous news?' Pippin bubbled.  
  
'Marvelous,' Ferdi glummed, and stuffed his own mouth so that he wouldn't have to talk further.  
  
Everard muttered something under his breath, and Pippin turned on him. 'What do you have against the Brandybucks?' he said.  
  
'They're Brandybucks; isn't that enough?' Everard said.  
  
'Well, they used to be Tooks, you know,' Pippin said. 'They're not that different from us, after all.'  
  
'They swim,' Everard said, 'and they go about in boats,' he added, ticking the points off on his fingers, 'and they wear _boots_, of all things...'  
  
'Only some of them wear boots,' Pippin broke in.  
  
'...and they live on the wrong side of the River,' Tolly added, 'right up against that Old Forest. They'd have to be queer folk to want to live there,' he said with a shiver.  
  
'You've never even been in the Old Forest,' Pippin protested.  
  
'Aye,' Tolly said, 'but then I'm sensible, you know.'  
  
'They actually go outside the Shire,' Everard said, 'All the way to Bree, I've heard, and mingle with Big Folk there. Well,' he said darkly, glaring from under his eyebrows, 'I've had about enough truck with Big Folk to last me the rest of my life.'   
  
There was a mutter of agreement amongst their table mates. In general, Tooks had a dim opinion of Brandybucks. O, they'd welcome them, well enough, when they came to visit. One must be hospitable, after all, and the Thain's own sister had married a Brandybuck for some reason or other. But it was always a relief to see them off again.  
  
***  
  
Merry spent the month of January and half of February at the Smials, when he and Pippin weren't riding about the countryside in their shining mail, singing, waving at pretty lasses, accepting invitations to tea and dinner. They often jogged across the fields to Bywater and up to Hobbiton to visit Frodo, to check on the progress made restoring Bag End.  
  
In mid-February, they packed up and took themselves off to Brandy Hall for about a month, before heading back to Bag End, and then they helped Frodo move his possessions from Crickhollow to Bag End, and thereafter imposed upon his hospitality until the wedding of Samwise Gamgee on the First of May, where, it was said, Merry Brandybuck had danced atop a table whilst he and Pippin serenaded the newly married couple.  
  
The Thain shook his head at the stories. That Merry Brandybuck was a bad influence, he feared, an only child and quite spoilt by overindulgence. On the other hand, in the time that he'd spent at the Smials with Pippin, there had been no more screaming nightmares, so perhaps Frodo had the right of it. Give the lads a holiday, some time to become accustomed to home life again, before requiring that they take up their responsibilities again.  
  
In Pippin's case, it wasn't much of a problem, as the lad was still a tween, but Paladin wondered at Saradoc's letting his son shirk his responsibilities, at his age. Still, he supposed he ought to be grateful and not snipe at the Master for letting Merry have time off to help Pippin get over his travels.  
  
But now... Paladin put down the letter he held, and frowned. Now they were proposing to move into the house at Crickhollow. Saradoc's heart had nearly failed him, and Merry must stay close to the Hall and assume some of the responsibilities of Master, and he wished Pippin to share the house with him. Pippin, of course, would be given tasks to do at the Hall, good training in responsibility, but... why not return to the Smials, after all, and take up some duties on home ground?  
  
Ah, well. Youth only lasted so long, after all. There would be time enough for duty when Pippin came of age. Might be good for the lad to have a bit of independence, stretch his wings a bit before putting the hood and jesses on. The Thain picked up his pen to write a note consenting to the move to Crickhollow, at least for the nonce.


	17. Forgotten

Yes, Marion, isn't it wonderful that ffnet is back to business? Wonder where everybody else is? Ah, well, this one's for you, since you check daily for updates! (O but wait, maybe you'd prefer a more cheerful chapter... well, don't worry, one's coming up.)  
**  
  
17. Forgotten**  
  
Ferdibrand settled into a routine of sorts. He'd watch at his assigned post from the middle night until the dawn, then take himself off for a ride on Dapple, revelling in the freedom of the wind in his face. Eat a quick bite of breakfast, keep his appointment with the healer to work the bad arm, then into bed to sleep until mid-afternoon.  
  
Sometimes Everard would seek him out at tea time, pressing him to eat more than he wanted, taking him off to walk the fields together. It was refreshing to see the new life coming out of the ground; it made Ferdi think that perhaps there might be new life for him, someday, even though now he lay fallow and to all appearances useless.  
  
After late supper, Everard, or Hilly and Tolly, would persuade him to join in a round at the Spotted Duck in Tuckborough. He became quite adept at tossing darts; his archer's eye was an asset even though he could no longer pull a bow. He always limited himself to one mug, however, and nursed it through the evening, until it was time to excuse himself and get ready to stand at his post once again. And so the days passed, one running into another.  
  
He rode Dapple in the annual Tookland Pony Races and ended in a respectable fourth place overall. He watched the Thain's laughing daughters bedeck the winning pony with braided chains of wildflowers; Pimpernel saved one of her chains and hung it about Dapple's neck, saying, 'If your lass hadn't got bumped at the start, she'd have won for sure, is what I'm thinking.'  
  
'That makes two of us,' Ferdi said, smiling down at her. The Thain caught the exchange and frowned.  
  
The next day, Paladin asked Eglantine to share elevenses with him in his study, and when Reginard had served them and made sure they wanted for nothing, the Thain excused him.  
  
Once they were alone, he turned to his wife. 'Pimpernel is of an age to be married,' he said. He was not one for chit chat, preferring to get right to the point.  
  
'Did you have someone in mind?' Eglantine asked. She thought of the glances she'd seen passing between her daughter and Ferdibrand Took, a brave lad, a bit down on his luck at the moment, but with enough determination to win his way back.  
  
'Yes, Odovacar Bolger's youngest brother asked me for her hand last night, after the feast, and I've accepted him.'  
  
Eglantine was taken aback. 'Rudivacar Bolger?' she asked. 'He's old enough to be her father!'  
  
'Now, love, let us not exaggerate, he's only a score or so years older. I must admit, Fredegar would be a closer match in age, but he's not the one that asked. Rudivacar's a good, solid hobbit,' Paladin soothed, 'very well thought of. He'll make her a good husband, and with the money in that family...'  
  
'I had thought there was some feeling between our Nell and Ferdibrand Took,' Eglantine said quietly.  
  
Thain Paladin sat back with a sigh, steepling his fingers. 'Surely, my love, you can see how that is not possible. Ferdibrand comes of good family lines, is true enough, but his father Ferdinand invested all his money, and the Bolger money as well that his wife brought to their marriage, into ponies. And most of those ponies burned up with his stables when Ferdi was a child, don't you remember?'  
  
'How can I ever forget?' Eglantine said softly. 'Ferdi never comes near a fire, whether it's a singing by the hearth in the great hall, or a bonfire by the racetrack on the eve of the races. I'm surprised our Nell's even noticed him, but she has.'  
  
'Well, she will have to forget him, for she's promised to another,' Paladin said grimly. 'For all that he was brave and bold against the ruffians, he's near useless now, with that arm of his. It was a kindness to give him a post by one of the doors. I doubt he'd let me pension him off, at his young age.' He sighed. 'Rudivacar has prospects for the future. Ferdi, poor lad, doesn't.'  
  
'When did you want to set the wedding?' Eglantine asked. She knew from long years' experience that there was no swaying her husband once he had set his course.  
  
'O, I don't care, whenever you'd like,' he said. 'Perhaps at harvest festival, d'you think you can have everything ready by then?'  
  
'I think so,' Eglantine said with a sigh. Somehow she could not find it in her to rejoice at this match.  
  
'Too bad we can't make it a double wedding, tie up our son safely with Estella now rather than later. Running about the countryside with young Merry, he's likely to get romantic notions in his head.'  
  
'Have you told him yet, about the agreement with the Bolgers?' Eglantine asked.  
  
'No need,' the Thain said. 'The lad'll do as he's told, when the time comes. And with our Nell and our Pip both married into the Bolger's fortune, well...' he rubbed his hands together with a satisfied nod. 'Things'll be looking up for the Tooks, that's for sure.'  
  
***  
  
Ferdi managed to avoid most of the wedding festivities. He was off on a long ride on Dapple during the wedding breakfast, slept through most of the afternoon activities, and traded watches with another door guard so that he was on duty during the wedding supper.  
  
He hadn't been surprised at the announcement, for there was no question in his mind that he could never marry one of the Thain's daughters. He was just a ghost, after all, haunting the Smials until his time came to depart.  
  
Besides Everard, only Tolly and Hilly seemed to remember that he existed at all. The Thain would give him a nod as he held the door open, but even Pippin, on one of his visits to the Smials, breezed by him one day without acknowledging him. Ferdi stood stiff and straight, face expressionless. If this was to be his lot, he'd make the best of it.  
  
Months passed, turning into years, and word came that Meriadoc Brandybuck was to be married to the eldest daughter of the north-Tooks at Long Cleeve. The Thain did not wish to make such a long journey and elected to send along a delegation of Tooks to carry his well-wishes to the happy couple.  
  
To Ferdi's surprise, Reginard sought him out in the stables, as he was preparing Dapple for her morning ride. 'You've buried yourself long enough,' the older hobbit said. 'I've asked the Thain if you can come along to the wedding. It's about time you gave up being a ghost and started living again.'  
  
'They don't need me at the wedding,' Ferdi said. 'At least I'm of some use, here.'  
  
Regi looked at him intently. 'You used to spend a lot of time in Merry's company, when he stayed at the Smials,' he said. 'You're about the same age.'  
  
'You're about the same age as Frodo Baggins, but I didn't see you hanging about him when he was here,' Ferdi said.  
  
'That's different. He was head of the Baggins family, while I was low chicken in the Tooks' pecking order.'  
  
'If you're low chicken, what does that make me?' Ferdi said. 'I'm just a hired hobbit, like you. Merry's not said half a dozen words to me since they came back from that journey of theirs. Probably doesn't even know who I am.'  
  
Reginard lost his patience. 'Well, you're coming along, anyhow, whether you wish to or not, so you might as well make up your mind to enjoy yourself.'  
  
Ferdi gave him the ghost of a smile. 'Is that an order?' he asked.  
  
'I can make it one,' Regi snapped.  
  
'I'll do my best to obey,' Ferdi said glumly.  
  
***  
  
Truth be told, Ferdi enjoyed the journey. He'd not been more than five miles from the Smials since that ruffian's club had smashed him down and his future with him. He could pull a bow now, after a fashion, but he'd never again be the finest of the Thain's archers, and doorward was about the highest post he could hope to attain.  
  
Riding through the summer landscape, he rested his eyes on the rich green of the rolling hills, the bright wildflowers, the crops in their ordered rows. He even forgot himself and joined in the singing on occasion as the wagons rolled.  
  
In the afternoon of Mid-year's Day, they drove into the yard at Long Cleeve, to find hobbits working away, but none of the family at hand.  
  
'They're all gone on a picnic,' one of the cooks shouted. 'It's Ruby's birthday this day, you know.'  
  
'Lucky lass,' another chuckled. 'Birthday today, wedding tomorrow, two days in a row of feasting...'  
  
'Yes, and if there's to be feasting, you had better mind what you're doing!' said the head cook, with a sharp rap of her knuckles on the heads of her gossipping workers. 'Back at it, now! Wagon's coming down the road, don't you see? They'll be here any minute and the sauces aren't all made yet!'  
  
'Wagon's coming!' Reginard echoed with a shout, and Ferdi looked down the road, to see the wagon coming slowly, ribbons blowing from the ponies' manes and the sound of bells jingling on the breeze. Something seemed amiss, but he couldn't put his finger on it.  
  
The head cook sighed gustily. 'Looks as if they've tired themselves out,' she said, 'and all the festivities yet to come this day. Ah, well, a bit of food and music'll perk them right up, I don't wonder.'  
  
That was it. The wagon was coming on slowly, some figures were sitting, slumped as if in exhaustion, others seemed to be reclining in the wagon. 'I see Pippin,' he said to Reginard. 'Shall we go to greet them?'  
  
The bells grew louder as the Tooks went to meet the wagon, and suddenly Ferdibrand could see that things were very wrong indeed. Tears streaked the faces of the driver and the others sitting in the wagon, the reclining hobbits were pale and still, wrapped in blankets, and there were two blanketed forms lying ominously quiet.  
  
'What's happened?' Reginard snapped as the wagon turned into the yard.  
  
'Wagon broke down in the Ford,' the driver said wearily. 'A flood came down on us, dam burst upstream or whatnot. Two drowned.' His voice broke and he could say no more.  
  
Merry was one of the blanket-wrapped figures lying, head in Saradoc's lap, pace pale and still, Pippin sitting next to him, blanket-wrapped, wet hair draggling down over his forehead. Ferdibrand recognised Samwise Gamgee amongst the hobbits that lifted the shrouded forms out of the wagon, to carry them to the house.  
  
'We want some help here!' Ferdibrand shouted as he reached up to steady Pippin, who was climbing shakily down from the wagon.  
  
'Ferdibrand?' he said.  
  
'Oh, aye,' Ferdi sighed. 'We'd just drove in when Regi shouted that he saw the wagon coming. We saw the ponies all decked out in their ribbons, and we heard the jingling bells. We thought--' He broke off and wiped his sleeve across his eyes.  
  
Reginard came up to them and took Pippin from the other side. 'Come on, let's walk him to the house.'  
  
'I can walk.'  
  
'You can barely stand on your feet, lad. Give me some credit for having two eyes I know how to use.'  
  
Pippin allowed them to walk him to the house and lower him to a chair by the hearth. Ferdibrand could see that his breathing was fast and shallow, and he held his arm close to his side protectively. Reginard lifted his shirt to prod gently along his ribcage, and Ferdi saw him suck in his breath.  
  
'Looks as if you've cracked some ribs,' Regi muttered.  
  
'Oh, aye, and don't I know it...' Pippin replied  
  
'I can bind them for you. Might make you more comfortable until the healer gets here.'  
  
'Thanks. That will be a help,' Pippin said.   
  
Regi said, 'Ferdi, go on out and see if there's aught else you can do.' Ferdibrand nodded and went out, to help unharness the pony team. He led the ponies to the barn, placed them in stalls, unbraided the manes and tails, silently rolled up the ribbons.  
  
The hobbits who had come to celebrate a wedding stayed instead to mourn at a burial, for Merry's bride-to-be Ruby and one of her younger brothers had been drowned in the flood. Word was whispered that young Merry Brandybuck had lost his mind from grief, and Ferdi could see that he was merely going through the motions required of him, led everywhere by his solicitous cousin Pippin. Ferdi shook his head. It looked as if Merry would be needing a minder, more than Pippin, after this.  
  
But the next afternoon, Ferdi saw Merry, apparently restored, walking slowly to the gravesites to lay wreaths of flowers and say his farewell.  
  
Pippin came up to him, then. 'It's good to see you, Ferdi,' he said quietly.  
  
Ferdi nodded. At least Pippin could see him at the moment, not like when he was acting the part of a doorpost at the Smials.  
  
'Regi tells me you're heading back in the morning,' Pippin continued.  
  
'That's right,' Ferdi said.  
  
'I'll be coming along as soon as these ribs heal enough for me to ride,' Pippin said.  
  
'It'll be good to have you about the place again,' Ferdi said politely.  
  
'I think Merry needs to get away from Buckland and Long Cleeve,' Pippin added. 'I want him to spend some time at the Smials.'  
  
Ferdi nodded again, wondering if Pippin had a point or was just making conversation.  
  
Pippin's gaze intensified then, and he put a hand on Ferdi's arm to command his attention. 'You and Merry used to be close,' he said. 'Can you help pull him out of himself? Help him see that there's still life to be living as long as he's breathing?'  
  
Ferdi smiled faintly. Pippin was asking a ghost to help pull another back into life. 'I'll do what I can,' he said.  
  



	18. Respite

Pansy, yes, Chapter 17 shows the seed of contention that was planted. There is still some watering and fertilising to come. We must recall that at this point in time, Pippin is still a heedless tween, for all his experience and adventure.**   
  
**Xena, glad you can review now. You didn't miss a terrible lot, ff.net was out to lunch all week. So frustrating! But at least it gave me a chance to outline the new story, "Where the Merlin Cries". How can the Thain be so cruel? He is completely practical-minded, with no "feeling" for the feelings of others. I know people like that.And thanks for the compliment about my insight. Have been wrestling for awhile with the question of Why? Why would the Thain just let his son wander about the countryside with his cousin? And why would the Master? Kept worrying at it until I came up with something plausible.**  
  
**Marion, you're right. Paladin is an interesting character... he has a lot of good points, but he can't see the forest for the trees. Wait, that sounds like  a good idea for a story title... And there are some caring folk coming into Ferdi's story now. Remember Chapter 11? (Ferdi's dad is not a sympathetic character, by the way, but his uncle, for whom he was named, was a wonderful hobbit and had quite a bit of influence on his young nephew before he was sadly killed in that stable fire.) And I have known the unreasoning stretch of depression, myself. Ferdi might have left the Smials long ago, moved to Woody End, where he was regarded as a hero, but he couldn't see that.**   
  
**Frodo and Xena, yes, I love it when I can intersect stories... takes a bit of planning and careful work to try to make it so that both stories can stand separately while chiming together, but it is fun.**   
  
**LadyJea, as you haven't peeked in since Ch 15 I hope ff.net's vagaries did not drive you away. Appreciated the adjectives. Nice review. Good to see other people are thinking about these things, too. This whole story came about because I was thinking about the Tooks. How _did_ they keep the ruffians out? How are they different from the other hobbits in the Shire?  
  
FantasyFan, you have seen the beginning of the break between Ferdi and Pippin. Not enough of a reason for the rest of the Tooks to be upset, not yet. That will come. "Jewels" goes into it a bit, from the outsiders' point of view of the Brandybucks, and a little bit of Pippin's perspective towards his father, but in "Flames" you will get to see the Tooks' side, and why there were good reasons for them to feel the way they did.  
**  
  
18. Respite**  
  
When the Tooks' waggons reached the Great East Road, Ferdibrand tapped the driver of his waggon on the shoulder. 'Let me off here,' he said.  
  
Reginard looked at him in astonishment. 'What are you doing?'  
  
'Taking a holiday,' Ferdi said. 'I haven't taken a day off since Merry started minding Pippin; I've stood guard duty each night up until we left for Long Cleeve. Years, it's been. I'd say it's about time, wouldn't you?' He thought a moment. 'Take care of Dapple for me, will you?'  
  
'I will... but what do I tell your father?' Regi asked.  
  
'Tell him I went to visit his favourite daughter, that ought to please him,' Ferdi said.  
  
'And what do I tell the Thain?' Regi asked.  
  
'Tell him whatever you like,' Ferdi answered. 'Tell him I'll be back in a month.' _...or not,_ he added to himself.  
  
He picked up his sack and jumped down, waving to the driver to go on. 'I'm off to see my sister,' he said. 'Don't wait supper for me.' He turned away with a grin for the other Tooks' open-mouthed surprise and began to trudge eastward. Eventually he'd turn south and cut across country to Woody End.  
  
Walking down the Road, he looked at the swifts darting in the skies above the fields, and felt a sudden intoxicating rush of freedom. Soon the noise of the waggons was gone, and there was just himself, the breeze, the sunshine, and the surrounding fields. A lark launched itself as he watched, flying straight up as if it would find its rest in the lap of the Sun herself, its song piercingly sweet. He stopped just to drink it all in.  
  
A farm waggon came up behind him and the farmer hailed him. He accepted the offer of a ride.  
  
'How far are ye going?' the farmer asked.  
  
'Frogmorton,' Ferdi said. From there he could cut across country, south and a little east, until he reached the woods, the Stock Road, and some miles south of the Road, his sister's home.  
  
He slept that night in a hollow tree, a familiar refuge, a place he'd hid many the time when the ruffians were on his trail. The night was mild enough, he didn't miss having a fire, and Diamond had packed bread and cheese enough for several hungry hobbits, in the kitchen at Long Cleeve, before the Tooks piled into the waggons to take their leave. Pretty girl, Diamond. Too bad she only had eyes for the son of the Thain.  
  
When he reached his destination, he paused in the shadow of the trees to watch his sister, a tray of tarts in hand, being swarmed by hungry small hobbits. After the tray was empty, the little ones scattered to their play or chores, and Rosemary went back inside. Ferdi followed her quietly.  
  
He tiptoed up behind his sister, and after she put down the tray, he placed his hands over her eyes, and said, 'Did you save me any of those fine-looking strawberry tarts, now, or are you only feeding ruffians these days?'  
  
She gasped and whirled. 'Ferdi!' she cried, throwing her arms about him. He held her, and then they danced a few steps, ending in a fast twirl, before he let her go again, to fall into a chair laughing. 'You rascal!' she scolded. 'It has been too long...'  
  
'Two years,' he said, 'since you came to Tuckborough for the Pony Races.'   
  
She shook her head. 'I cannot believe it is nearly three years ago we threw the ruffians out; how quickly the time has gone.' Ferdi smiled. For him, each day had run into another in an endless procession, but he said nothing, content to let his sister fuss over him, a warm feeling after being a ghost for so long. She had jumped up and was filling a plate with tarts, plonking them down on the table with a cup of tea fixed just the way he liked it, nagging at him to have a seat and, 'Eat! Eat! Hally will be glad to see you; he was just talking about making another trip to Tuckborough and now you've saved him the trouble.'   
  
She sat herself down with her own cup of tea, fanning her face after her whirlwind endeavors. 'How's Father?'  
  
'The same. Every day a new grumble. His teeth have gone missing three times since Hally brought the last set two years back. The last time they turned up, someone had hidden them in a pickle barrel. Gives him something new to complain about. Everything tastes now like pickles.' Hally had carved an exquisite set of wooden teeth for Ferdinand Took, while on a long visit to the Great Smials the summer after the ruffians had been tossed out of the Shire. These teeth were a great temptation to the younger Tooks in the Smials.  
  
'Fits him,' Rosemary said. 'If he weren't so sour, he wouldn't be so inviting a target for mischief.'  
  
'Ah, well. Whatever would he talk about otherwise?' Ferdi said philosophically. 'Mmmm,' he added, biting into a tart. 'You haven't lost your touch. These taste just like Mum's.'  
  
A small hobbit had peeked in the door and run off again, shouting, and soon the woodcarver himself was there, a crowd of young hobbits around him. 'Ferdi,' he smiled. 'Good to see you. It has been too long.'  
  
'Uncle Ferdi! Uncle Ferdi!' the young ones clamoured, and one shouted, 'Did you bring us presents?'  
  
'Now why would I do a thing like that?' Ferdibrand said. 'What's got into you, Robin?'  
  
'I'm Robin!' a larger specimen said. '_He's_ Buckthorn.'  
  
Ferdi arose and bowed gravely. 'I beg your pardon, Robin,' and bowed to the other, 'Buckthorn.' He picked up his sack, weighing it consideringly. 'Hmmm, there might be somewhat in here...'  
  
The children cheered and gathered round. 'Let me see, now,' Ferdi said, kneeling down. He carefully brought out a quiver, worked exquisitely of leather, with many intricate designs. 'I think there's one for each lad, let us see now...' He gently withdrew an arrow, handing it to the eldest lad. 'Fletched it myself, you know,' he said. 'You'll have to have your smith fit a pyle to it.' He looked up at his sister. 'I thought you'd be the best judge as to what kind of pyles your sons may use.' His last set of arrows had been wickedly tipped, suitable for bringing down a large deer... or a ruffian.  
  
When the arrows were all given out, he reached into the bottom of the quiver to bring up a handful of bright feathers. 'I'm sorry, I've naught else,' he said to the two lasses who stood before him. 'Will these do?' The littlest one nodded shyly, finger in her mouth, and the older one carefully took the feathers from his hand, with a little bob and a thank you.  
  
'But your quiver's empty!' Rosemary said. 'What'll you shoot?'  
  
'I've no bow,' Ferdi said.  
  
'That's easy enough to fix,' Hally said, lifting down a finely crafted bow from a shelf, stringing it quickly, and offering it to Ferdi. To his surprise, Ferdi waved it away.  
  
'You need a bow to ride escort for the Thain,' his sister protested.  
  
'I don't ride escort anymore,' Ferdi said quietly. 'I open doors for folk who want to go in or out of the Smials.'  
  
'Ferdi,' Rosemary breathed, sinking into a chair.  
  
'Don't grieve, Rosie, I've had plenty of excitement in my life. It's about time I had some peace and quiet.'  
  
'How long are you here for?' Hally asked, changing the subject.  
  
'Until you throw me out,' Ferdi grinned.  
  
'Never!' the little hobbits shouted.  
  
'That settles it,' Hally said. 'I guess you're staying forever, then.' For the first time in a long time, Ferdi laughed.  
  



	19. Brace

**19. Brace**  
  
The Thain's reaction was totally unexpected. Instead of cold anger or hot rage against the missing Ferdibrand, he sat silently nodding to himself for a moment, then began to smile. 'I dare say the lad is on the mend,' Paladin said finally.  
  
'Sir?' Regi asked.  
  
'For two years now, ever since the healers said they'd done all they could for him, he's moped about, hardly speaking to a soul. So he was no longer the finest archer in the Smials, he should bury himself on that account? He should have taken himself off months ago, found somewhat else to do with himself.' He nodded again. 'Well, we're well shut of him now, and best of luck to him. I hope he forges himself a fine new life out there in Woody End.'  
  
'But he's a Took!' Regi protested.  
  
'And a Took cannot live outside of Tookland?' the Thain snorted. 'Tell that to the Brandybucks, they've been doing it for centuries.' He would never admit that he was secretly glad to see Ferdibrand gone; seeing the lad every time he went in or out of the Smials was a reproach, a message to Paladin that he should have done more, though what more he might have done was beyond him.  
  
'He said he'd be back in a month,' Regi reminded.  
  
'I'll believe that when I see it,' Paladin said shrewdly. The only thing he knew of that kept the lad here was his fierce pride, and his duty to his father. Well, with a father like Ferdinand... he'd be cared for by the Tooks of the Great Smials, even if his son should never return. The Thain owed Ferdibrand that much, for all he'd done against the ruffians. No, Ferdi was better off forging himself a new life in a new place.  
  
***  
  
Rosemary arose early in the morning, shaping the bread she'd set to rise before retiring, setting it to bake for early breakfast. She sat down then, by her sleeping brother, with a cup of tea to await the delicious smell that would curl through the little dwelling and coax her family from their sleep.  
  
As she sipped, she remembered the last time she'd seen Ferdi in these parts, for after the hanging, they had used the clothesline and the hollow tree for messages, and had not spoken face to face until the woodcarver's family travelled to Tuckborough for the pony races, the summer after the scouring of the Shire.  
  
Hally had come home, axe over his shoulder, whistling a tune, calling out a greeting to the ruffian still lurking about the yard. The ruffian had sheepishly come out of hiding, to accept a cup of tea and a few biscuits.  
  
'Did ye get any good trees, Hally?' the ruffian said.  
  
Hally nodded, his own mouth full of biscuits, and washing them down with a swig of tea he said, 'I did, indeed, cut down two fine ones and left them to lie. They'll season nicely, I think. I cut another down, but it wasn't suitable, so I let some hobbits drag it away for firewood.'  
  
Rosemary's stiffened shoulders relaxed and she allowed herself a small sigh of relief. 'Would you like another biscuit?' she asked.  
  
'No, thanks,' the ruffian said gruffly. 'I am supposed to be keeping out of sight as it is. Many thanks, Rosie,' and he gulped the last of his tea and handed back the large mug Hally had specially carved for a ruffian's hand.  
  
'You're welcome,' she murmured, taking the mug. The ruffian wiped his mouth with his sleeve and stepped back into the shadows behind the byre.  
  
There was the sound of a hastily ridden pony approaching, and then one of their neighbors entered the yard, pulling the pony up short of reaching them. Hally put his hand on Rose's arm with a significant nod.  
  
'Hullo, Ches!' he called. 'Whatever's the matter?'  
  
'We've illness at our house,' the other called back. 'Half the family's down with it... the wife cannot even lift her hand to cook. Can Rosie come?'  
  
'What kind of illness?' Rose shouted. She could see the shadow of the ruffian, tense, listening.  
  
'Seems as if the body's forgot how things work, keeps sending food up rather than down. Poor Missus said her insides was trying to make themselves outsides.'  
  
'Are you sure you ought to go, Rose?' Hally said seriously.  
  
'They need help,' Rosemary said firmly. Raising her voice, she said, 'I'll be right along!' Ches nodded and reined his pony around.  
  
'Rose, I don't like you walking through the wood alone,' Hally said.  
  
The ruffian stepped from the shadow of the byre. 'I'll escort you, Mistress Rose. No one will bother you, if they see me.'  
  
She smiled gratefully. 'Thanks, One-Hand, I'd appreciate that.' She ducked into the house, coming out soon with a basket on her arm. 'I'm ready.'  
  
They walked through the woods together, the ruffian politely shortening his steps to accommodate her. At the edge of the neighbor's clearing, he stopped. 'I ain't gonna go any further,' he said. 'Want my insides to stay put.' He gazed at her in concern. 'Are you sure you oughta go in there?'  
  
'Neighbors are obliged to help neighbors,' Rosemary said firmly.  
  
Ches came out of the byre, then, scowling to see the ruffian standing beside Rosemary. 'What's he doing here?' he grunted.  
  
Rose flashed him a bright smile. 'One-Hand escorted me through the woods to make sure I wouldn't be bothered by roving ruffians,' she said in her cheeriest tone. Then, turning to the Man, she said politely, 'Thank you so much. I'll be fine now.'  
  
The ruffian bowed elaborately, nodded ironically to the hostile hobbit, and melted into the woods.  
  
Rosemary crossed to the house, meeting Ches at the door. He opened the door for her, gestured her inside, and once the door was closed, broke into a broad grin.  
  
'I didn't think you knew what you were doing, bringing a ruffian to our doorstep,' he said.  
  
'They'll give this place a wide berth for the time being,' Rose answered. 'One-Hand will spread the news to the others that there's sickness here.' She looked past the welcoming family. 'Where is he?'  
  
Violet, wife of Ches, stepped forward, gesturing to one of the bedrooms off the main room. As Rosemary followed, she said, 'I'm so ashamed... we thought you were in league with the ruffians, and all this time...'  
  
'It's all right,' Rosemary said. 'Hopefully the ruffians _still_ think we're in league with them. If you neighbors will keep your frowns in place, for our sake, they are more likely to continue to trust us.' She was brought up short by the sight of her brother on the bed. His wrists were bandaged, but she could clearly see the livid purpling in the swelling about his neck, and the raw red mark of the rope.  
  
Going to her knees by the bed, she breathed, 'Ferdi...'  
  
He opened his eyes and smiled at her, croaking her name in the barest whisper. 'Don't try to talk,' Violet said gently. She turned to Rosemary. 'I do not think the damage was lasting,' she said, 'but his throat will be very sore for some days, and he will have trouble talking and swallowing.'  
  
Rosemary attempted to smile. 'Imagine that, my brother, not talking my ear off, for a change.'  
  
No ruffians were seen in the week that Rosemary helped to nurse her brother to the point that he was back on his feet, ready to return to Tookland. On the day he was ready to depart, Ches drove off in his waggon, coming back with an elderly hobbit, well-wrapped up in a cloak, scarf wrapped about his neck against the autumnal chill.  
  
He helped this elderly relative from the waggon, escorted him to the house where he was warmly greeted by Violet and the little hobbits. The old hobbit stopped just short of the house, leaning upon his heavy stick to say, 'Are ye sure that ailment is well gone?'  
  
'Well gone!' Violet laughed. 'It went through the entire family, Uncle Oak, but we've been clear since yesterday.'  
  
'All right, then,' the old hobbit said, and consented to be escorted through the door. After he'd enjoyed his tea, he emerged again, as any watching ruffian might have seen, to be helped into the waggon and driven away.  
  
Inside the dwelling, safe from spying eyes, Uncle Oak sat still in the rocker by the fire. 'Is he well away?' he quavered.  
  
'Well away,' Violet said.  
  
'What'll I do for a stick, then, since he's taken mine?' the old uncle asked. 'Not that I begrudge it to him, of course. The Fox can have as many of my sticks as he cares to fetch away.'  
  
'My Hally's already carving you another,' Rosemary said. 'Ches'll fetch it back in a bundle of firewood when he escorts me home.'  
  
And so he had. Rosemary sipped the last of her tea and saw her brother stir as the mouth-watering smell of baking bread wafted through the rooms. She arose before he opened his eyes, not wanting him to accuse her of being a "mother hen" as he so often did, and went to get the rest of the breakfast ready.  
  
***  
  
Hally invited Ferdi to go hunting with him. 'You don't have to shoot,' he said, 'but bring a bow along just for the company.' He filled Ferdi's quiver with arrows, and the two set out, Hally calling back, 'We'll be back in time for tea!'  
  
They tramped through the woods, and Hally brought down several conies and a startled pheasant. He patted the game bag with satisfaction. 'We'll make a fine stew,' he said, 'what with the new potatoes and carrots from the garden.' Taking out his knife, he made a mark on the tree. 'Now,' he said. 'Let's see you shoot.'  
  
Ferdi tried to demur, but Hally stood fast. 'I want to see just what the trouble is.'  
  
Ferdi eyed the mark, fitted an arrow to his bow, began to draw back the string, then grimaced.  
  
'Hurts?' Hally said. 'Where?'  
  
'Deep in the bone,' Ferdi said reluctantly, rubbing the spot. 'A kind of ache. Almost feels as if it's about to buckle.'  
  
'Ah,' Hally said. 'Try again for me.' This time he put both of his sturdy hands around Ferdi's forearm, gripping strongly, steadying the arm as Ferdi pulled back the string with the other hand. Ferdi was able to pull back all the way and release the arrow in the general direction of the target.  
  
'Was that better?' Hally asked. Ferdi nodded. 'So all you need's another bone,' Hally said quietly. 'Something a bit stronger than what's inside the arm.'  
  
'Another bone,' Ferdi chuckled. 'Now how am I to manage that?'  
  
Hally took his pipe from his pocket, filled it, and sat down to smoke and think. 'I've an idea,' he said. 'Sit down and rest your feet. We'll walk back after I've had my think.'  
  
Ferdi waited in silence while the other thought. He was used to this, from Hally, who often carved wondrous creations after one of his "thinks". The other, however, said nothing when he finished his pipe, only rose from his feet to say, 'Well, let's go. If we leave now we won't have to walk in a hurry to be back for tea.'  
  
A week later, Hally's brother came to tea. 'Gundabar! Welcome!' Rosemary cried. 'What brings you here?'  
  
'Hally invited me,' Gundabar said. 'Dropped off a waggonload of firewood and told me you'd be making seedcake for tea this day.'  
  
'So that's why you asked me to make seedcake,' Rose said to her husband. 'I thought it a funny thing, you never touch the stuff.'  
  
'Hullo, Ferdi,' Gundabar said. 'Fancy finding you outside of Tookland these days. Thought you were glued to the Smials, from what Hally said.'  
  
'Glue wore off,' Ferdibrand answered, and the other snorted.  
  
'Tea's not quite ready, yet,' Rosemary said.  
  
'That's fine,' her husband answered. 'We've got somewhat to do before then.' He eyed the little hobbits who'd gathered to greet their uncle. 'Off with ye, now! You all have tasks to finish before you can wash up for tea!' The little hobbits scattered obediently.  
  
'Come along, Ferdi,' Hally said, and the three went into the house. Hally took down a bow, strung it, handed it to Ferdi. 'Draw it as best you can,' he said, 'but do not fire it dry.'  
  
'I know better than that,' Ferdi answered. Hally steadied the bow arm as Ferdi drew back on the string; Gundabar watched closely, nodding to himself.   
  
He stepped up, to place his hands around Ferdi's arm. 'Pull just a bit more,' he said, and Ferdi complied, gritting his teeth. 'Right, then,' Gundabar said. 'Ease off, now.'  
  
Digging in the sack he'd brought in, he said, 'You had the right idea, Hally. I do not know if this will fit properly, but we can adjust it, I think.' He brought out a piece of leather, stiffened with ribbing of some sort, Ferdi could tell when the other extended it to him for examination.  
  
'Hold out your arm,' Gundabar said, and proceeded to fit the leather around Ferdi's forearm. He pulled up some straps to secure the brace, then moved it slightly on the arm. With a grimace, he removed the brace again. 'I want a bit of cloth,' he said. 'It's stiff enough to chafe, we'll want to glue a bit of padding to the leather on the inside.'  
  
When the brace was fitted and adjusted, the three went outside again. Hally made a mark on a tree at the edge of the glade, and they took turns shooting. Ferdi found that the brace supported his arm, allowing him to shoot with much less pain, so that he could concentrate on aiming and shooting without distraction. 'That's prime, Gundy!' he said. 'I haven't been able to shoot in months!'  
  
'Well now you can,' Gundabar grunted. 'About time,' he said. 'You've not much time if you're to be shooting in Tuckborough next month.'  
  
'The contest?' Ferdi said. 'You jest.'  
  
'Of course not,' Gundabar said, insulted. 'Naught's wrong with your eye, and that's more than half what makes the archer. And now, naught much is wrong with your arm, thanks to my help.' He thumped his chest. 'I think you could open a few eyes at the contest, this year, or I'm not a Bolger.'  
  
'Last I heard, you were left on the doorstep,' Ferdi said acidly.  
  
'Naw, that was Hally,' Gundabar said placidly. 'I'm a Bolger, all right. Hally, now...' he fended off his brother's mock scowl.  
  
'Do you think we could all come to Tuckborough?' Rosemary asked later, as they sat at tea, to be echoed by a chorus of eager young hobbits.  
  
Hally's scowl turned to a grin. 'I don't see why not...' he said. 'It's always a pleasure to see those cock-sure Tooks taken down a peg or two.'


	20. Wastrel

**20. Wastrel**  
  
_I hunt all day midst the curing hay,   
Just to catch a brace of coney dinner,  
For a coney pie brings a gleam to eye,   
Such a pie is sure to be a winner!  
And I'll sing you a Hey!   
If you make it this way:   
With a crust as flaky as can be!  
Hey, ho! Bake it up this day,   
And I'll ask you--hey!,   
Pretty lassie, will you marry me?  
--from a Hobbit hunting song  
  
[A/N: for music, go to http:**www.classicalfree.org*music*coney-pie-web.mid ]_  
  
The song rang out as the waggons rumbled along the road from Stock to Tuckborough, tendrils of song passing back and forth between the waggons, weaving them together in harmony as the round continued. Finally reaching the last verse, Ferdi shouted from the driver's seat of the second waggon, 'Pretty lassie, will you marry me?'  
  
He was answered by Hally, driving the first waggon, 'Pretty lassie, will you marry me?' The line echoed several times until the last group of singers ended, and the waggons erupted in cheers and laughter. Snatches of song were heard from other waggons before and after them on the road, all travelling in the same direction, towards the Great Smials for the Barley Festival and the shooting tournament that always took place at the same time.  
  
'Nearly there!' Hally shouted, and the little Bolgers cheered lustily. Ferdi looked ahead to see the first houses of Tuckborough, and rising behind them, the bulk of the enormous hill that contained the Great Smials of the Tooks. They drove through the town, waving to the inhabitants who called greetings, into the large meadow between the town and the Smials proper.  
  
Hally drove to the spot Ferdibrand had told him about, pulled his brake, hopped down from the waggon, rubbed his hands together, saying, 'Right! Shall we set up our pavilion?'  
  
'Start a fire, first,' Rosemary laughed. 'It's teatime already!' The little hobbits cheered. They'd eaten several cold meals in the waggon; breakfast at the newly rebuilt Crowing Cockerel seemed ages ago. Hally sent the two biggest brothers off to the nearby spring with a bucket whilst he built a fire. Ferdibrand hobbled and tethered the ponies in a patch of lush grass behind the waggons, then began to set up the brightly coloured fabric booth that would hold their wares as well as screening the waggons and their living area from the sight of the anticipated fairgoers. When he was done, Rosemary brought him his tea and a few tarts she'd packed up just for this occasion.  
  
'I'm afraid they're not hot from the oven anymore,' she said. 'Stale, rather, having been baked early yesterday.'  
  
Ferdi bit into one of the tarts and grinned. 'Your stale tarts,' he said, 'are better than anyone else's fresh out of the oven.'  
  
'Go on with you,' she said, giving him a push, but she refilled his plate when it was empty with a smile.  
  
The sun was westering when all their tasks were done, the booth set up for the fair's opening on the morrow, tents for sleeping erected and filled with soft bedding, plates and cups washed and put away ready to be brought out again for late supper. Ferdi and Hally had shot several conies as they were on their way, and roasted over the fire with a bit of Rosemary's tasty bread and some potatoes baked in the coals, they'd be a tasty meal indeed.  
  
'There'll be a bonfire by the racecourse this evening,' Ferdi said. 'Marvelous singing, and storytelling, in the bargain.'  
  
'Will you go?' Rosemary asked softly.  
  
'No, I'll stay and watch over things,' Ferdi said easily. 'You go, you and Hally, and all the children. How often do you get to the Smials, anyhow?'  
  
'As often as I wish to,' Hally said, but he grinned. 'Come, Rosie, let us walk the fair and see what wares will be there to tempt us on the morrow.' It was common for the vendors to "walk the fair" the evening before, to arrange some private trades... a set of carven bowls for a length of brightly dyed cloth, a finely crafted bow for a gleaming new axe, a nicely carved cooking spoon for a paper of needles, a quiverfull of arrows for a finely woven blanket of softest wool.  
  
Ferdi sat back against the wheel of one of the waggons, fletching yet another arrow to add to the stock of wares on the morrow. With the shooting tournament and all, Hally would likely sell all the arrows he had, and mourn that there were not more to offer.  
  
At a step he looked up. 'Hullo, Tolly,' he said. 'Pull up a piece of turf and rest your feet.'  
  
'Hullo, Ferdi,' the other said soberly, but obediently sat down. 'We wondered if we'd ever see you again.'  
  
'I told Regi I'd be back in a month,' Ferdi said, 'and here I am.' He paid more mind to his work for a moment; it was a delicate business to make an arrow that would fly straight and true to the mark. 'And Pip asked me to watch over his Brandybuck cousin. Have they arrived yet?'  
  
Tolly's face, of a wonder, grew even longer. 'Aye,' he breathed. 'They arrived last night.' He shook his head. 'Poor lad.'  
  
'Who? The Brandybuck? Or our Pip?' Ferdi asked. 'I can see you saying that, with him at the Smials his da will make him work harder than he ever has in his life. He'll be glad to get away again and ride about the Shire like the ne'er-do-well that he is.'  
  
'Ferdi,' Tolly hissed. 'Bite your tongue.'  
  
'Why?' Ferdi asked curiously. 'Has the lad done a lick of work since he threw the ruffians out?' At the other's hesitation, he nodded. 'He's a wastrel, Tolly,' he said softly. 'Surely you can see that.'  
  
'He's a brave lad!' the other protested. 'Why, when that waggon was swept away in the flood, he dove in and--'  
  
'Just like any Brandybuck would,' Ferdi said. 'Of course, you know, the Brandybucks can swim, they practice enough in that great River of theirs when they can find no other way to waste their time. 'Twas no great feat for Pip to dive into the flood, Tolly. He's a fine, strong swimmer, I hear tell.'  
  
'Ferdi, the Tooks will cast you out of Tookland if you don't mind your tongue,' Tolly whispered.  
  
'Let 'em,' Ferdi said equably. 'As long as I end up near Woody End, I shan't mind.' He finished the arrow, put it into the quiver, and picked up another shaft.


	21. Bonfire

Marion, bite your tongue! Shakespeare I am not! (That's where you find Iago, I think?) Ferdi doesn't have to poison anybody's mind... Pippin, remember is still a reckless, heedless tween who thinks he can "whip his weight in wildcats" (yes, that's probably an Americanism, wonder what the British equivalent would be?), not yet tempered by age and experience, too cocksure to heed anybody's advice, and he is riding for a fall (as anyone who's read Jewels knows...)  
  
Bookworm, I am sorry to distress you, but... well... Pippin _is_ a wastrel, at this point in time. See comments to Marion, above. People are not static, they change and grow, and since mine is a hopeful vision, I see my characters improving over time. But you've gotta have room for improvement! These are very early chapters in Pippin's life, remember. If you get frustrated, read... "At the End of His Rope". Yes. Nice bit of mature Pippin there. And all the more satisfying when you see how far he's come.   
  
Dana, what would I do without your reviews? And your preview comments? Thanks, BTW, for noticing that Frodo should be "him" in Chapter 4 of "Merlin"... good catch. That's the kind of thing that happens when you write and rewrite a paragraph until it sounds right... and then you miss changing something and it ends up very wrong!   
  
LadyJea, welcome back! Missed you! See? I noticed when you didn't comment for awhile.   
  
Xena, yes, the contest is coming right up... same hobbit-time, same hobbit-station (did anyone else ever watch the old "Batman" series, o so many years ago?) ...in the very next chapter after this one, as a matter of fact.   
  
And now, on to the story!**  
  
21. Bonfire**  
  
Ferdi could hear the singing at the bonfire, and long silences which were undoubtedly filled with storytelling, for they were punctuated by bursts of laughter or groans or cheers. His fingers kept about their business, and he hummed along with the songs that came wafting on the breeze.  
  
A voice spoke out of the darkness. 'You really ought to add your voice to the songs.' Ferdi looked up to see a dark shape silhouetted against the stars.  
  
'Hullo, Pip,' he said politely. 'I'm surprised you're not in the thick of it.'  
  
The other laughed and crouched down beside him. 'I was, but Hilly told me that Tolly'd seen you, so I came searching.'  
  
'Very kind of you,' Ferdi said. 'And now you've seen me, and you can go back to the fun.'  
  
'Not half the fun, when I think of you sitting here alone in the dark.'  
  
Ferdi said, 'I'm fine, cousin, don't mind about me.'  
  
'But I _do_ mind about you, terribly, cousin!' Pippin's laugh rang out. 'You're always burying yourself off in a dusty corner somewhere, I've hardly seen you for months, and you used to be such fun! Regi tells me you buried yourself for the last month in the Woody End, I imagine you nearly died of boredom, naught but trees about and hardly a pretty lass to be seen...'  
  
'O I managed to pull through somehow,' Ferdi said.  
  
'Well, I'm not going to let you sit here in the dark any longer,' Pippin said. 'You've a fine voice to add to the singing, and you know the Thain never lets anything go to waste.'  
  
_Except his son, perhaps,_ Ferdi thought, but did not voice.  
  
'Come along,' Pippin said mischievously, 'or do I have to pull you by your ear?'  
  
'You've had plenty of experience with that yourself,' Ferdi said coolly, 'the number of times the cooks have caught you at mischief in the kitchens.'   
  
Pippin laughed heartily again, then subsided. 'Please, cousin?' he said more quietly.  
  
Ferdi knew he would wheedle until he got his own way, spoilt as he was by his mother and sisters, and he was suddenly too tired to continue the conversation. 'Just a moment,' he responded, and by feel he carefully put his tools away and laid down the shaft he'd been working on, shoving all safely beneath the waggon where it wouldn't be stepped upon in the dark.  
  
He'd expected his young cousin to chatter away as they walked towards the bonfire, but Pippin was oddly silent, for him, and Ferdi was finally prompted to ask, 'Is somewhat amiss?'  
  
He heard the other sigh, then Pippin said slowly, 'It's Merry.' But he did not add any more.  
  
Ferdi worked to keep the edge from his voice as he replied, 'Well, what d'you expect? He lost his bride on his wedding eve, scarcely a month agone, and you think he ought to be singing and laughing at stories?'  
  
'He wouldn't even come to the bonfire,' Pippin said, frustration in his tone.  
  
'So that's why you came a-badgering me?' Ferdi asked. Pippin must be desperate, indeed for a companion, scraping at the bottom of the cask to be searching out Ferdibrand, whom he'd hardly had a word for all these months. However, Ferdi was hardly of a mind to laugh at his cousin's jokes, or tell him how clever he was. Ah, well, he'd pay his due and then Pippin would leave him alone again.  
  
He stiffened as the bonfire came into view, but forced himself to keep pace with the other. Laughter broke out, another comical story had reached a successful end, and then Hilly was saying, 'There you are, cousin! We'd missed you! And who's this...? Ferdi?' The last spoken softly, in some wonder, for Ferdibrand was never to be found near a fire of any kind, if he could help it.  
  
'Hullo, Hilly,' Ferdi said. 'How have you been keeping?'  
  
'Well,' Hilly answered, 'Very well indeed,' he added.  
  
Pippin laughed. 'I do believe there's a certain lass who'd agree with you,' he teased, and by the light of the bonfire, Ferdi saw Hilly pull his lips tight in annoyance.  
  
'How're things in the Woody End?' Hilly said, ignoring the comment, and Ferdi hastened to answer.  
  
'Woody. Still as many trees as ever, for try as they might the ruffians could not cut them _all_ down, and more seem to spring up each year.'  
  
'Trees'll do that,' Hilly said dryly. Pippin was about to interject his own comment when a call went up.  
  
'Where's Pip? It's his turn to tell the tale! Pippin!'  
  
The son of the Thain grinned and bowed to his cousins. 'My adoring listeners await,' he said. 'I shall return in a trice.'  
  
'Don't trip all over your legs in your hurry,' Ferdi muttered, but of course the other was already gone. Ferdibrand started to turn away, but Hilly caught at him.  
  
'Stay,' the other said. 'You're already here. Sing with us, listen to a few stories, I'll even buy you a mug. It's been too long since we were able to drag you out of your haunts.'  
  
'Very well,' Ferdi nodded. Hilly and Tolly, and Everard Took, had not let him completely bury himself, after all. 'Where's Ev'ard, anyhow?'  
  
'Rounding up mugs of something or other,' Hilly said. 'You can have Pip's, he won't need it. Half a dozen mugs will be pressed into his hands when he finishes his story, anyhow.'  
  
'Well, I wouldn't want Pip's mug to go to waste,' Ferdi said agreeably, and when Everard came up, hands full of beer, he rescued the neglected mug very bravely indeed.  
  
Pippin was telling some unbelievable tale about Men and orcs and trolls and a great battle somewheres that he claimed to have been in the midst of. There were great _Ohs_ and _Ahs_, and as he began to listen, Ferdi was drawn into the tale, seeing the sights, smelling the smells, hearing the sounds, and feeling the cramp of fear in his belly as the Black Gate opened and the horde of terrible creatures poured forth.  
  
He could see clearly in his mind's eye the tall trolls, four hobbits high, bearing down upon him and the tall, grim Men surrounding him, fell back as a great hammer beat down upon the shield of his friend by his side... (a part of Ferdi wondered at that. _Friend? Pippin could call one of those great oafs "Friend"? _The only good ruffian Ferdi knew of was a dead one.)  
  
The troll beat down the tall guardsman of Gondor, then lifted the helpless Man in its claws, to bite out his throat. With a cry of grief and rage, the hobbit sprang forward, bright sword glittering as he thrust it deep into the belly that towered above him, and then, the creature came crashing down upon him, burying him in blood and stench and crushing pain...  
  
'And then what?' several voices clamoured, when Pippin paused. Even Ferdi had been drawn in, and now he found himself taking a deep breath, to make up for all the breaths he hadn't taken as the story reached its climax.  
  
'And then I died, of course,' Pippin said mischievously. 'For how could a hobbit live, crushed beneath one of those great trolls?'  
  
There was a moment of stunned silence, then a great laugh rang out, building higher. The Thain slapped his son on the back, laughing uproariously, and as the hilarity began to die away, several mugs were shoved at the son of the Thain, and he grinned, quaffing one quickly, before handing the others to nearby relations and taking the last for himself, to sip more slowly.  
  
'Some story,' Hilly said beside Ferdibrand.  
  
'Aye,' Ferdi said. 'He's got the gift of a tongue, all right.'  
  
Everard cast him a sharp glance in the firelight. 'And naught much else, you're thinking,' he muttered.  
  
Ferdi answered softly, 'I'm not the one who said it.' He drained his mug and handed it back to Everard with thanks. 'I think I'll take myself off again,' he said. 'Looks as if Pip is no longer in need of my company.'


	22. Tournament

Notes to readers:  
  
Bookworm and Xena, Whew, sure glad we got that straightened out. Yes, Pip is quite young, still, but hopefully we'll get to see some development in his character within future chapters of this story, since it runs parallel to Jewels up until his first year as Thain.   
  
Dana, thanks! I aim for believability. My goal is "real" writing. Glad it seems to be working.   
  
Pansy, yes, I think Ferdi's attitude is understandable. Sure, part of it can be called "his fault" for burying himself when the healers said there was nothing more they could do, but... I can't help thinking that if it had been Pippin, the Thain would have done more, somehow... and Pip's heedless self-absorption doesn't help matters any. Sure glad he grows up, aren't you?  
  
And now, to my current "favourite chapter" in this story... fun to write, hope it's fun to read as well...  
  
***  
  
**22. Tournament**  
  
Ferdi awakened very early, for he wanted to see his fine lass, Dapple, before being swept up in the events of the day. He trusted that Reginard had taken excellent care of the pony, with his attention to detail and tremendous sense of duty. She'd probably pay Ferdi no mind at all after being cared for by Regi...  
  
...but he came to find her stall empty.   
  
As he stood pondering, one of the stable hobbits came up behind him. 'Looking for a good place to spark a blaze?' he said cheerily.  
  
'I've other fish to fry this day,' Ferdi returned pleasantly.  
  
'Just as long as you don't fry any ponies,' the other chuckled, when a quiet voice spoke behind them.  
  
'On your way, laddie,' Old Tom the head hobbit of the Thain's stables said. 'You've enough work to do, you don't want me finding any more for you.'  
  
'Yessir,' the hobbit said and quickly turned back to his sweeping.  
  
'Hullo, Tom,' Ferdi said.  
  
'Good to see you, Ferdi,' the other answered. 'I'd heard you'd cleared out for foreign parts.'  
  
'Naw, I was just down to Woody End to visit my sister, is all,' Ferdi said. 'I'm back, now.'  
  
'That I see,' Tom said.  
  
'Where's Dapple?' Ferdi asked.  
  
'The lass is down in t'field with all the other ponies,' Tom said. 'The Thain ordered them to be turned out all the night, seeing as how they'd be stuck in their stalls all the day, what with shooting going on and all. As a matter of fact, we were just laying down the fresh bedding before going to round them all up again.'  
  
'You don't need to trouble yourself about my lass,' Ferdi said, picking up the halter from the hook, and slinging it and the lead rope over his shoulder. 'I'll go and fetch her.'  
  
The old hobbit's face crinkled in a grin, and he fished in his pocket, holding out a few pieces of carrot. 'Better take a treat along,' he said. 'Regi's spoilt her rotten, y'know.'  
  
Ferdi laughed and thanked him, pocketing the treat, and went out into the pre-dawn softness, jogging to the larged fenced field where the ponies of the Smials were given freedom to run and graze and roll, or to stand beneath one of the scattered trees to dream of a summer's day. There was just enough light, though the Sun had not yet peeked above the horizon, for him to make out the dark shapes, and the sounds of champing teeth came to him in the breathless silence before the world awakened.  
  
He gave a whistle, a clear call, and one of the heads jerked up to look in his direction. He whistled again, and the pony turned towards him, to trot over to the gate, nodding her head in greeting and pushing at him with her long face. He laughed and offered her the first of the carrot pieces, slipped the halter on her whilst she crunched it, and gave her another for good measure, stroking her gently.  
  
'I missed you, lass,' he said softly. 'Next time I go I'll take you with me.' She nodded wisely, though she was probably just asking for more carrot, and to reward her, he offered the final piece, which she brushed off his palm with a caress of her velvet lips.  
  
Leading her back to the stables, he heard the sound of a trotting pony on the stones of the courtyard, and looked around to see Meriadoc Brandybuck astride his flame-coloured pony. The Sun had peeked her head up out of her covers, and in the brilliant sunrise light the pony shone like new gold. 'Hullo, Merry,' he said politely. 'How was the ride?'  
  
He was shocked at the other's appearance; Merry was off his feed, apparently, and there were circles of sleeplessness under his eyes. He greeted Ferdi politely enough, saying, 'I like the early morning hours best; riding in the quiet I can hear myself think.'  
  
'And why would you want to think before breakfast?' Ferdi asked, but the other gave him only the barest smile. Well, he'd promised Pippin he'd help distract Merry from his troubles...  
  
'Come now, cousin, it's a beautiful day, and you're riding the fastest pony in Eastfarthing, so I hear tell.'  
  
'Do you have a point?' Merry said.  
  
'I bet my mare could beat your pony in a fair race,' Ferdi said, challenge in his tone.  
  
'Do you, now?' Merry asked, a grin tugging at the side of his mouth. 'I'd heard she did no better than fifth in the Tookland races a couple of years back.'  
  
'Fourth,' Ferdi said, stung. 'She took fourth in the pony races.'  
  
Merry laughed. 'Are you saying that the fourth-place runner from Tookland is better than the winner of the Eastfarthing races?'  
  
'That's what I'm saying,' Ferdi grinned.  
  
'You're on!' Merry said. 'Just saddle her up and we'll have a go.'  
  
'Why waste the time?' Ferdi said, and to Merry's amazement he vaulted upon Dapple's back, with only the lead rope to guide her. 'Let us go!' he shouted, and with a wild whoop that wakened half the hobbits still sleeping on the field in tents, he kneed her into a trot towards the racecourse, Merry following in utter bemusement.  
  
When they reached the racecourse, Ferdi got down to scuff a line in the dirt. 'We'll race all the way around and back to this point,' he said.  
  
Merry shook his head. 'You really ought to have a saddle, or a bridle at least...' he said.  
  
'Whatever for?' Ferdi laughed, grabbing at Dapple's mane and jumping up again. 'Are you ready?' he said.   
  
Merry gave a nod and sat deeper in his saddle, and the flame-coloured pony seemed to crouch where he stood behind the line. 'Give the word,' he said.  
  
Ferdi gave a nod of his own, then erupted into a sudden piercing shriek that wakened the other half of the slumbering hobbits on the field, while at the same time he leaned forward on Dapple's neck and dug his heels into her flanks. The yell startled Merry's pony into rearing as the little mare leaped forward and settled into a ground-eating gallop.  
  
Merry mastered his pony and sent him after her, but the mare had a wide lead and had reached the second turn when Merry's pony was just at the first. He achieved a steady rhythm and slowly ate up the ground between them, but Ferdi's pony was still half a length ahead when they flashed over the line.  
  
Merry was actually laughing as they eased their ponies to a walk. He shook his head. 'I do believe you are daft,' he said to Ferdi.  
  
'You mean there was doubt about it?' Ferdi asked with a grin. 'I'd thought it was the general consensus.' He patted Dapple on the neck. 'Wouldn't you agree, Sweetheart?' She tossed her head and both hobbits laughed.  
  
'Well, let's cool them out and get a bite of breakfast,' Merry said. 'For some reason I am absolutely ravenous.'  
  
'Good,' Ferdi said. 'I know just the thing... I'm staying with the finest cook in the Shire, and breakfast ought to be just about ready by now.'  
  
'And this cook won't mind an uninvited guest?' Merry said.  
  
'Ah, no, not at all, she always cooks more than we can eat, anyhow. Don't know how we manage not to waste the food, but it's so good we just eat it all up despite the danger of bursting.'  
  
'Well, let me go along and ease the danger for you a bit, just this once,' Merry said.  
  
'Very kind of you, I'm sure, to make the sacrifice,' Ferdi said. They walked their ponies until thoroughly cooled out, stabled them, and went on to enjoy their breakfast immensely.  
  
Rosemary greeted Merry kindly, remembering him from the visits he'd spent at the Smials as a youth. He and Ferdi had been practically inseparable for a time, with little Pippin tagging along, dragging them into trouble oftener than not. Hally was polite, for he had a higher opinion of Brandybucks as a whole, than Tooks (wife and brother-in-love excepted), and the little Bolgers were quite animated, having seen the latter part of the race after the second whoop awakened them. Between them, they had Merry laughing and relaxed and forgetting his troubles long enough to eat a hearty breakfast.  
  
They were laughing over some joke of Hally's when a horn sounded, and Rosemary jumped to her feet. 'The fair's about to open!' she cried, 'and here I am with the dishes not even washed.'  
  
'Not even cleared, you mean,' Ferdi said, 'but let me help you as best I can.' He popped the last bite into his mouth and gave her his plate. 'There!' he said around his mouthful. 'Anybody else need any help?' But of course, everyone else finished their breakfast without aid, and Ferdi and Hally excused themselves to Merry, to mind the booth.  
  
'Are you joining the shooting this morning?' Merry asked.  
  
'No, I'll be at the tournament after the nooning, though,' Ferdibrand said. 'Will I see you there?'  
  
'As long as Pippin doesn't shoot me by accident this morning,' Merry said. 'He's better with a sword than a bow, I fear. Hardly Tookish of him.'  
  
Ferdi grimaced. He had to agree. 'Enjoy the shooting,' he said. On the morning of the tournament, any archers who cared to would walk together in groups. One would pick a target, say a clump of grass or broken branch, and all in the group would shoot at it. They'd all walk over, then, and see how they did, and the one who'd come closest to the mark would pick the next object to shoot at. It was a pleasant way to spend the morning whilst the wives and daughters were shopping at the fair.  
  
There would be a sumptuous noontide feast, with roasted meat supplied by the Thain (already delicious smells were wafting from the roasting pits), and other foods shared amongst the hobbits who'd come. Since there was quite a rivalry to see who could produce the dish to be used up the fastest, a good meal was had by all.  
  
In the afternoon, Ferdi donned his brace, buckling it securely with ease of the past few weeks' practice. 'Ready?' Hally said quietly, holding his bow and Ferdi's.  
  
'Quite,' Ferdi answered. 'Let us give the Tooks something to gossip about.'  
  
'No worry there,' Hally said. 'They gossip about everything.'  
  
They walked over to the pavilion where archers were registering for the competition. Rudibold Took looked up in astonishment to see Ferdi. 'I thought you'd given it up!' he said.  
  
'Not quite,' Ferdi answered. 'I thought I'd give it one last shot,' he added, 'just for old times' sake.'  
  
Rudi shook his head, but wrote Ferdi's name down on the registry and took his silver. 'Very well,' he said, 'but it feels like robbery to me.'  
  
'Don't let it worry you,' Ferdi soothed. 'Humour me. Rumour says I'm daft, anyway.'  
  
'So I'd heard,' Rudi said wryly. 'What group do you want me to place you with?' His pen hovered over the list of novices. He'd seen Ferdi shoot a couple of years back, after the bones had knitted, before he gave it up in frustration.  
  
'Put him with me,' Hally said quietly. The other looked up, startled. Hally was among the best he knew of; was he looking to humiliate his wife's brother?  
  
But Ferdi was nodding with a smile. 'Go ahead,' he said. 'He wants to keep an eye on me, you know, in case I go off my head.'  
  
'You _are_ daft,' Rudi muttered, but he wrote down the two names on the expert list.  
  
There was a preliminary contest, a kind of quick check to make sure none of the entrants had exaggerated his abilities. All in the expert group quickly passed the test, and moved on to the competition.  
  
Rosemary waved to them from where she stood with the two oldest Bolger sons, who were shooting with a group of lads of assorted size. They were taking turns shooting at apples hanging from strings, and when an arrow hit the mark with the satisfying result of splitting the fruit into pieces, a cheer would go up from the boys and the onlookers.  
  
The intermediates were having a bit of fun shooting straw-stuffed crows from perches of varying height. Every time a bird fell, a cheer went up from the watching farmers.  
  
The shooting became progressively more difficult. Ferdi's group started by shooting at straw animals and birds placed in various locations; in the grass, on the branches of trees, swinging from a high branch on a line, to simulate a bird in flight. Not a few of the expert shooters were eliminated when they had to shoot at targets across a small pond, for estimating distance was trickier over water, as some learned to their dismay. The more experienced archers had practiced for just such a contingency, despite the usual hobbit distrust of water.  
  
Shooting from the back of a pony into targets came next, first at a walk, and then at increasingly faster gaits. The crowd stayed well back, and none strayed beyond the ropes, for not a few arrows went wild at the gallop, and about half the group was eliminated during this event.  
  
Next they moved to the Tuckborough practice range, a permanent mound of earth, a "butt" two hobbits high and a hobbit-and-a-half wide, with an upright face to shoot into, tapering more gradually off on the backside. The master of the tournament had affixed roundels to the face, and the archers took turns shooting from various distances. The small cloth targets, about a handspan in size, were easy to hit at the first distance, but progressively harder as the archers moved back.  
  
Ferdi's arm was tiring, but he stayed with the group to the end, when the final five archers began a contest of "split the willow". The master of the tournament set up the peeled willow wands and stepped back. Two of the archers were quickly eliminated, but Ferdi, Tolly and Hally managed to split the wands on their first try. More wands were set up, the archers moved back, and Hally missed on this round.  
  
A hush fell as the final round began. Tolly stepped up to the line. A great cheer arose from the spectators as he split the wand, though the master shook his head as he examined the split stick, for it was not split into true halves; the arrow had obviously hit off-centre.  
  
Ferdi stepped up. He wanted to rub his aching arm, but the brace prevented that. He shrugged his shoulders to ease the tension, twisted his bad arm slightly within the brace, bowed to the master, and raised his bow. As he started to pull back the string, he felt the warning pain in the bow arm, more than the ache he'd been shooting through. He knew that he could make this shot, but was it worth the possible ruin of his arm? He let off the tension on the string, stood considering as the crowd stared in suspense.  
  
'Come on, Ferdi!' someone shouted. 'You can do it!' He looked up with a smile for Everard, Hilly beside him. The latter raised a mug with a grin. Having finished eighth before his elimination, his position on the Thain's escort was secure for another year. Everard shouted encouragement again; no doubt they'd placed a wager on the outcome.   
  
He raised the bow again, fingers caressing the arrow they held, and then... he unnocked his arrow, bowing to Tolly, then walked off the line, as the crowd watched in stunned silence. He knew he could shoot again, and everyone else knew it as well. He had nothing to prove, after all.  
  
[Author's Note: Thanks to Steve Adams at Stortford Archery Club for his invaluable technical advice!]


	23. Reinstated

Notes to readers:  
  
Everyone, Thanks for the lovely reviews! I am encouraged to keep writing.   
  
Marion, you know, it *is* rather hard to say "no" to the ruler's child, wouldn't you think? Especially when he's grown past the age to have a nanny.  
  
Pansy, sorry, I know it is hard to be switching back and forth on a timeline... Pip is Regi's choice for Thain because... well, guess you'll just have to wait and see, 'cause I'd hate to give any plot points away ahead of time (except to Dana of course, who wouldn't tell her own mother what's for tea if she thought she didn't need to know, isn't that right, Dana?). Suffice it to say, in glittering generalities, that things are going to get worse before they get better, for how else would all the Tooks have such a rotten attitude at the beginning of FireStorm?  
  
FantasyFan, very incisive comments, thanks, you have given me new insights into my own characters! I know a few teens at present who are terribly self-absorbed, though basically good people, and they get in more trouble as a result than if they took a wider view and considered others' feelings as well as (if not before) their own. Perhaps that colours the picture I am painting at present. Sometimes it takes suffering to become aware of the needs of others. Dunno, what do you think?  
  
Bookworm, yes, in this respect Ferdi is maturing... he doesn't have that need to prove himself when *he* knows that he can do a thing, like with the shooting, he was mature enough not to possibly ruin his arm to make the winning shot.  
  
Dana, LadyJea, Xena, faithful reviewers, thank you.  
  
And now, to the current chapter...   
  
***  
  
**23. Reinstated**  
  
The waggons were packed up again, the sun was westering in the sky, painting the wisps of high clouds in bright colours. The smell of good stew came to Ferdi and Hally as they roped the last of the cover over the second waggon.  
  
'There,' Hally said. 'All we've got to do on the morrow is pack up the tent and sleeping stuff and we'll be on our way.' He gave Ferdi a sharp glance. 'Are you and Rosemary going to pay your respects this evening?'  
  
'How could Rosemary leave without letting her father see his favourite daughter?' Ferdi asked wryly. 'He won't care a fig if he sees me, probably hasn't even noticed that my nightly visits have stopped, but he misses Rosemary.'  
  
'Not enough to leave the Smials and move in with us,' Hally answered.  
  
'And this is a bad thing?' Ferdi said. They laughed together, but then Hally looked up, his eyes widening, and Ferdi spun around, to see standing behind him... the Thain.  
  
'I beg your pardon, Sir,' he said, bowing, and saw Hally make his own hasty bow.  
  
'Walk with me a bit, Ferdi?' Thain Paladin said. 'I'd like to have a talk with you.'  
  
'Certainly, Sir.' Who was he, to gainsay the Thain?  
  
They walked past other hobbits packing up waggons or settling around cooking fires to eat their suppers, the Thain acknowledging their bows with a nod of his head. At last they reached the end of the fairing and walked out onto the empty meadow. The Sun had passed below the horizon, and the first stars were appearing in the fading sky.  
  
They walked in silence until they were well away from any that might overhear, then the Thain stopped.  
  
'I saw you shoot today,' he said quietly.  
  
Ferdi nodded. He wasn't surprised. Sometimes it seemed to him as if the Thain saw everything there was to see, at other times he was surprised at how blind The Took could be.  
  
'I know you can ride,' Paladin added wryly, and Ferdi wondered if he'd seen the race with Merry, himself, or if someone had reported the details to him.  
  
'How far can you run?' came next, and this seemed to demand an answer.  
  
'As far as need be,' Ferdibrand said.  
  
The Thain nodded. 'Of course,' he said. He turned to face Ferdi directly. 'I want to offer you your old job back.'  
  
Ferdi looked at him, puzzled.  
  
'Not as doorward,' Paladin snapped, then shook himself. It had been a long day, and Pippin's performance had been more of a disappointment than he wanted to admit. That the lad should be out-shot by a Brandybuck...   
  
Softening his tone, he continued, 'You've all the qualities I require in my escort. I want you to come back.'  
  
Ferdi was silent. 'I'll give you some time to think on't,' the Thain said, and Ferdi was surprised again. The old hobbit must want him badly, to make such a concession.  
  
'I will,' Ferdi promised. 'You'll have my answer on the morrow.'  
  
'Fine,' the Thain said. He stretched, looking up at the brightening stars, then said, 'It's been a long day. Guess I'll take myself off to bed.'  
  
'Yes, Sir,' Ferdi said. Thain Paladin turned and ambled back in the direction of the Great Smials, whilst Ferdibrand stood as if he'd taken root, and watched the stars spin around the night sky as the night slowly passed him by.  
  
***  
  
The next morning, Rosemary gave him an odd look as he reached the waggons. 'You missed visiting Father,' she said. 'He asked after you.'  
  
'Did he, now,' Ferdi said. 'Wonders will never cease.'  
  
'What did you decide?' Hally asked.  
  
'How did you know?' Ferdi said.  
  
'Why else would the Thain come out to chit-chat with you?' his sister said quietly. 'Has he offered to take you on as escort again? Now that he's seen you shoot?'  
  
'It's what I always wanted to do,' Ferdi answered, a faraway look in his eyes. 'Seeing the Thain ride out, his escort with him, sitting so straight and proud, bows at the ready, as if daring a ruffian to strike or wild boar to charge...'  
  
'Not as exciting as it looked to you as a young lad, I wager,' Hally put in, amused.  
  
Ferdi came back to the present with a chuckle, shook himself. 'Not at all,' he said. 'Right tedious, most of the time.'  
  
'But the pay's good,' Hally continued, 'and you have the added benefit of all those admiring looks from the pretty lasses...'  
  
Ferdi laughed. 'Are you trying to talk me out of taking it on? Or not?'  
  
'Don't throw your lot in with great folk, Ferdi,' Hally warned. 'Not unless they have your trust.'  
  
'I'd trust Thain Paladin,' Ferdi replied. 'His course is as fixed as that of the Sun.'  
  
'Right, then,' Hally said, holding out his hand. Ferdi grasped his arm, and Hally returned the squeeze with one of his own on Ferdi's arm. 'Just remember,' Hally said. 'We will always have a place for you, if you need it.'  
  
'I'll remember,' Ferdi said. 'Don't be strangers, now.'  
  
'We might come back for the pony races next year, what do you say, Rosemary? Can you stand to see your father again that soon?' Hally asked, turning to his wife.  
  
'For the sake of seeing Ferdi again, I'll make allowances,' Rosemary answered, then threw her arms about her brother. 'Take care of yourself, little brother.'  
  
Ferdi smiled at her. 'Don't I always?'  
  
'No,' she said fiercely, 'You don't.' She blinked hard, forced a smile. 'So don't make me have to come and set you straight, do you hear?'  
  
He returned her hug, and without another word, released her, took up his bag from where Hally'd set it by the waggon wheel, and turned to walk back to the Smials. They watched him silently until he reached the stones of the courtyard, then Hally said, 'Let's head out the waggons! Time's a-wasting, and I want to get to the Cockerel before they've finished serving tea.'  
  
They climbed into the waggons where the children were already waiting.  
  
'What's wrong, Mama?' little Lavender asked.  
  
'Naught, child,' Rosemary answered, 'just a speck of dust in my eye is all.' She wiped her eyes with a corner of her apron, and picking up the melody her husband was singing as he started the first waggon towards the road, she slapped the reins on the ponies' backs to begin the long journey homewards.


	24. Remembering

Note to readers: Here is a bit of restful reading for the weekend. Too bad you won't find the same mood over in the chapter of "Merlin" that I just posted... however, if you find angst relaxing, then "Merlin" ought to suit you just fine.  
  
*****  
  
24. Remembering**  
  
Ferdi carved no boat for this Remembering Day, but he went out with the Tooks anyhow, to sing, to share, to watch, and to walk back, singing, to the feast in the great hall. Tolly saved him a place at the table far from the hearth, and he nodded thanks as he seated himself.  
  
He didn't have much to say, applying himself to the food as the hobbits around him remembered loved ones now gone beyond the Sundering Seas, but a grumble caught his ear and he found himself listening.  
  
'...ought to have been here, not in Buckland. I ask you, is he even a Took anymore? Spends more time with the Bucklanders than with his own folk.'  
  
'Pity the poor lad, the Thain'll work his fingers to the bone when he comes of age and _has_ to come back here...'  
  
'He's not a lad, he'll be Thain someday, and it's about time they put the jesses on him, stopped letting him fly so wild and free... he's got responsibilities and it's time he learned them.'  
  
Ferdi met Tolly's eye and shook his head. He worked for the Thain, now, one of his most trusted hobbits, part of the Thain's escort, and loyalty dictated that he say no word against the Thain or his family. He'd keep his opinions to himself, thank you very much.   
  
Tolly lifted a wry corner of his mouth and turned his attention back to his plate. That was one of the good things about Tolly; he didn't mind silence, didn't have to shoot his opinions into the target at the least inclination, just kept them in his quiver until they were called for.  
  
Ferdi didn't have much of a Yule, but this was something he was used to. A holiday where much of the action took place near a blazing giant log, now... it was nearly a pleasure to dance attendance upon his father, in Ferdinand's rooms, sipping hot cider, eating spice biscuits, talking quietly about what the new year might bring.  
  
Ferdinand was more animated than Ferdi'd seen him in a long time. He was proud of his son, who'd nearly won the tournament this year. (_You could have taken that shot... why didn't you, you fool of a Took? Could have shown them all!_)   
  
Ferdinand was proud, too, of his son's position on the Thain's escort, a hand-picked few, who had to prove themselves to be chosen, and to stay on the job as well. (_The Thain, he knows quality when he sees it. Sure a pity that Rosemary's husband Hally won't move to the Smials, fine archer, that one, he'd be tapped for escort for sure..._)  
  
All in all, it was the best Yule Ferdi'd spent with his da in years, though he couldn't help thinking that, if things were different, he'd have passed the holiday in the warmth of his sister's home, surrounded by his nephews and nieces, whittling in companionable silence with the woodcarver as they waited for the old year to slip out and the new year to arrive, waiting to see who'd have "first footing" this year. The first neighbor to set foot over the threshhold was always welcomed with beer, bread, pouch of pipeweed, and a silver coin, all meant to bring blessing in the new year. The year Ferdi'd gone "first footing" he'd come home with quite a haul...  
  
Midsummer came, and Pippin with it. There was a great celebration in the Smials the day he came of age. Actually, it was a three-day celebration, and with all the visiting relatives it seemed as if the entire Shire had come to share the joy. At the birthday dinner, there were speeches, and songs, and toasts, and more than once Pippin had to duck his head and blush while his father roared with laughter at a jest or jibe.  
  
Ferdi, of course, made no jibes, but he enjoyed the feast, and the free-flowing ale that came with it, even if he had to sit across the table from a bunch of drunken Brandybucks and listen to their jokes about the Tooks.  
  
After the actual birthday dinner on the third day, there was a bonfire by the racecourse. Ferdi took himself off, of course, walking in the comforting darkness under the stars. He was surprised, then, to hear Pippin's voice behind him.  
  
'Cousin?' Pippin said.  
  
He turned. 'Why aren't you at the celebration? Won't they miss you?'  
  
'Of course they will,' Pippin said. 'I cannot stay long. But I must needs seek you out where you are to be found.'  
  
'Seek me out?' Ferdi asked, puzzled.  
  
'I have a gift for you,' Pippin said.  
  
'You didn't have to do that,' Ferdi said.  
  
'I wanted to,' Pippin answered. 'I've spent a lot of time with Merry, and he... he took me to task over a few things.'  
  
Ferdi remained silent. _Good for Merry._  
  
Pippin stumbled over his words. 'I... I've treated you shabbily, Ferdi, too busy over my own affairs to pay you any mind, and after you always looked out for me, all these years...' He took a deep breath, let it out in a sigh. 'Merry said... he said...'  
  
'What?' Ferdi asked quietly.  
  
'O, it doesn't matter what he said,' Pippin answered miserably, 'only that I'm in the wrong, and I owe you an apology, and I've come to ask your forgiveness.'  
  
'Nothing to forgive,' Ferdi answered. 'You're the son of the Thain, you've no need to apologise to me for your actions. I'm just a hired hobbit, after all.'  
  
'No!' Pippin cried, his voice anguished. 'You're my _cousin_, more, you were always a brother to me who had only sisters for company.' He drew a shaky breath and Ferdi had the horrified notion that he might start to weep. 'You were always there when I needed you, but you cannot say the same of me. Please, Ferdi... forgive me.'  
  
Ferdi looked up at the comforting stars, so fixed in their courses; dependable, they were. He took a deep breath, and turned to this wild cousin of his, on whom the hood would soon descend, the jesses tie him to the earth, and to his surprise, he found pity replacing his resentment.  
  
'I forgive you, cousin,' he said, holding out his hand. Pippin took it, and they clasped hands there in the darkness, renewing the bond of friendship between them.  
  
Then Pippin exclaimed, 'O!'  
  
'What?' Ferdi said, amused.  
  
'I nearly forgot!' He fumbled at his belt. 'Here, my birthday present.'  
  
'A knife?' Ferdi asked.  
  
'It was given to me in Gondor, by my best friend there. I want you to have it.'  
  
Ferdi was touched. 'I... I don't know what to say,' he said.  
  
'Thank you would be appropriate,' Pippin answered with some asperity.  
  
'Thank you,' Ferdi said obediently, and Pippin laughed, clapping him on the shoulder.  
  
'You're welcome. Now, can you give me a present?'  
  
'On your birthday?' Ferdi was scandalised.  
  
'Aye, on my birthday!' Pippin laughed. 'Yours is too far away and I want my present now!'  
  
'What did you want?' Ferdi asked, bemused.  
  
'I want your company... could you stand being at the bonfire? Just this once?'  
  
Ferdi hesitated, and Pippin added in a low voice, 'I know, it's asking an awful lot.'  
  
'It is,' Ferdi said bleakly, but forced a smile. 'But seeing as it's your birthday...'  
  
'Come on!' Pippin said, and Ferdi could hear the delighted grin in his voice. He threw an arm about Pippin's shoulders, and his cousin supplied an answering arm. Together, the two of them walked back to the bonfire, and there they sang, and drank, and swapped stories with the rest of the celebrating relatives until the fire burned down to ashes in the light of the wakening Sun.


	25. Escort

Note to readers: As you can see, if you've already read "Jewels", the action in this story continues to parallel the action in that story. Here you get to see the portrait of Frodo from its inception... if you want to see it delivered, go read "Jewels", the chapter entitled "Another Nephew's Visit" (chapter 24).  
  
Thanks for the comments, Pansy and Bookworm!  
  
*****  
  
****25. Escort**  
  
The Tooks and the visiting relatives sought their beds after a hearty breakfast, sleeping until the late nooning. The time between noon meal and teatime was spent packing up, walking or talking or playing at Kings in the sunshine, a day of rest before the long journey on the morrow. Tea that day was a high tea, more of a supper, really; the tables groaned with festive food, and there was much laughter and story-telling and song. By the time late supper would normally be served, most of the travelling relatives had already sought their beds, to prepare for an early start the next day.  
  
Ferdi was one of the few Tooks in the great room, taking a light meal, talking quietly with Tolly, when the Thain came up to their table. He motioned Tolly to remain seated, saying, 'Ferdibrand, a word, if you please?'  
  
Ferdi pushed away his half-finished plate and rose. 'Certainly, Sir,' he said, and nodding to Tolly, he followed Paladin to his study. Once there, the Thain directed him to the chair beside the desk, poured an ale for each of them, and sat down behind the ornately cared desk.  
  
Ferdi waited until the Thain picked up his glass and sipped before tasting his own ale. He waited while Paladin put the glass down, straightened a few papers on the desk, picked up the glass, took another sip of his ale, and then looked him directly in the eye.  
  
'You did a fine job, when you were head of the escort,' the Thain finally said. That was in the time when Ferdi could outshoot Tolly or any other Took in Tookland, but Tolly was doing a fine job nowadays heading up the Thain's escort. Ferdi was content to follow his lead.  
  
Paladin's next words startled him. 'I want you to take on the task of head escort.' _But what of Tolly?_ He nearly spilt his ale, but managed to take hold of himself and maintain his composure, just barely.  
  
A corner of the Thain's mouth twitched as if he'd followed Ferdi's thought. 'No, Tolly's doing a fine job,' he said. 'I was talking about my son's escort.'  
  
Ferdi nodded. Of course, now that Pippin was back for good, and too old to have a minder, he would merit an escort of his own.  
  
'You'll start on the morrow,' Paladin continued. 'Do you have any questions?'  
  
'No, Sir,' Ferdibrand answered.  
  
Paladin did not dismiss Ferdi, but sipped at his ale again, evidently deep in thought. Finally he said, 'You know our Pip is a wild 'un.'  
  
Ferdi thought it best not to answer, contenting himself with a sip from his own glass.  
  
'Spoilt, I must admit it,' the Thain said. 'We've spoilt him, those Brandybucks have, as well... he's headstrong, and willful, and it will take some time to wear those rough edges down.'  
  
He took another sip from his glass, then said. 'But if he is a stubborn rock, I am the river... I will wear him smooth, shape him into what he needs to be, to become Thain. 'Tis only a matter of time.' He looked keenly at Ferdi. 'Don't let him wheedle you, you've a duty to do, and so does he.'  
  
'Yes, Sir,' Ferdi answered. He put his glass down on the desk, half drunk up.  
  
'Very well,' Paladin said. 'Be off with you now. And take that ale with you, don't want to waste it.'  
  
Ferdi rose and bowed. 'No, Sir,' he answered, and taking the glass, he left the study.  
  
Returning to the great room, he found Tolly just finishing his meal. The other's eyebrows rose, seeing the glass Ferdi carried.  
  
'You want it?' Ferdi said. 'It's his private stock.'  
  
'Thanks,' Tolly said, appropriating the glass and sipping appreciatively. 'Good stuff,' he said. 'So what did he want?'  
  
'Wants me to head up Pippin's escort,' Ferdi answered.  
  
'And you accepted?' Tolly said, perturbed.  
  
'Did I have a choice?' Ferdi returned. 'He didn't exactly ask.'  
  
Tolly shook his head. 'You're in for a rough ride. If Pip goes astray, guess who'll get the blame?'  
  
Ferdi sighed. 'Tell me about it,' he said morosely. 'Let's just hope the lad has turned over a new leaf.'  
  
Tolly shook his head again. 'One day doesn't make all that much difference,' he said. 'Sure, we say he's a year older, but he's not all that different from the Pip who stole your da's teeth last month and hid them behind the spice jars in the kitchens.'  
  
Ferdi snorted, remembering the assistant cook's hysterics when she'd moved a spice jar to find the teeth grinning from the shelf.  
  
'Ah, well,' Tolly said. He held out his hand. 'It's been good, working with you.'  
  
'And with you,' Ferdi answered, taking the hand and giving it a solemn squeeze. He got up from the table, then, and said, 'Enjoy the ale. I'm going to turn in now.'  
  
'Get plenty of rest, that's a good idea,' Tolly shot after him. 'You're going to need it.'  
  
***  
  
The days fell into a routine for Ferdibrand. Most mornings he was free, unless the Thain told him a day ahead of time that he would be riding out with Pippin, or that he would be sending his son on an errand the next day. In either case, Ferdi rode at Pippin's side.  
  
Most days, however, Pippin was glued to his father's side, set to work at various tasks: copying out old records in a fair hand, hearing disputes and writing down his verdict (and have pity on him when his judgment didn't match the Thain's), listening to his father discuss business with the various hobbits who worked for him.  
  
Ferdi's workday started when the Thain's ended, just after teatime, when Pippin would be released. At first, it was pleasant to accompany him about Tuckborough, laughing and joking as in the old days, but there inevitably came the time when the jesses began to chafe and his wild cousin began to pine for the sky.  
  
'I do not see why you have to escort me everywhere I go,' Pippin grumbled as they prepared to ride out of the courtyard.  
  
'It's custom,' Ferdi answered unperturbed. 'The Thain has had an escort ever since the time of Bucca of the Marish.'  
  
'Yes, but there is not so much danger of wolves and ruffians and stoats, these days, as there used to be. The Shire is quite a tame place now, quite boring, actually,' Pippin said. 'When was the last time you had to draw your bow to save me from a charging boar, after all?'  
  
'None of your nonsense, now, Pip,' Ferdi said. 'It's custom, and it's the Thain's orders, and it's my job. There's three good reasons for you, do I really have to come up with more?'  
  
Pippin shook his head in frustration. 'If I could just get away by myself, to think my own thoughts, for awhile,' he said quietly. 'Sometimes I feel as if I'd been bound with cords, or as if there's not enough air in the world to breathe.'  
  
'I'm sorry, Pip,' Ferdi said, honestly. 'The best I can do is ride behind you and keep my mouth shut. You can pretend you're off on your own, at least, if I don't say a word.'  
  
'It's not the same,' Pippin grumbled.  
  
'It's the best I can do,' Ferdi repeated. He nodded to Hilly, and they dropped back, allowing Pippin to ride ahead a little ways, but still alert, following, watching.  
  
Ferdibrand watched Pippin grow progressively more tense, but there was little he could do; the Thain was in charge, after all, and determined to tame this wild son of his. One thing Ferdi could say for his cousin, the lad was honestly trying. It must have been discouraging for him to have all of his good work taken for granted, while his mistakes were singled out and picked apart by his critical father. Paladin set high standards for himself, and for everyone around him.  
  
The first time Paladin disowned his son, Ferdi heard there'd been a shouting match in the study, and then the son had flung himself out of the Smials, tacked up his pony, and ridden off. Since it was morning hours, and Ferdi had not been notified of a need for his escort duty, he was away in Tuckborough and came back to the Smials to find Pippin gone.  
  
Cold fear had clenched his gut; would the Thain blame him for his dereliction of duty? But no, it turned out, Paladin had issued an ultimatum that morning; either Pippin bow to his father's will, or leave Tookland, disinherited. He left.  
  
Over mugs in the Spotted Duck that evening, Ferdi listened to the talk around him, shock, speculation, rumour, conjecture, head-shaking.  
  
'I could have said, "I told you so",' Tolly said quietly. 'You don't cage a wild hawk and expect him to eat from your hand like a songbird.'  
  
'So who'll be Thain after Paladin?' Ferdi asked. 'You?'  
  
Tolly choked on his beer. When he had regained control of himself, he wiped his mouth and shuddered. 'Old Isembold removed our line from the succession,' he said, 'for which I will ever honour his name.'  
  
'But could you replace your line in the succession... if you wanted to, that is?' Ferdi asked curiously.  
  
'Well, thankfully it is not up to me, but to the eldest son, my brother Mardi, you know.'  
  
'He doesn't even live in the Smials,' Ferdi commented.  
  
'Nay, and so I think there's little danger of his taking on the Thainship,' Tolly said. 'I'm afraid Reginard will be stuck.'  
  
'Poor Regi,' Ferdinand said. 'D'you think _he'd_ turn it down?'  
  
'No, his sense of duty is too strong, though I know he isn't too happy about the turn things have taken,' Tolly said. 'I wouldn't be surprised if he went out to hunt down Pippin and make him come back and apologise, or convinced the Thain to send for his son, taking him back.'  
  
'If not Regi, then who?' Ferdi asked.  
  
Tolly shook his head. 'Not Everard, not with his temper,' he said. He eyed Ferdi. 'And certainly not you, not after you burned down the old Thain's stables.'  
  
'_Nearly_ burned down the stables,' Ferdi corrected.  
  
Tolly took another gulp of his beer. 'Whatever,' he said.  
  
Things went pretty much as Tolly predicted. Reginard smoothed over the rift, the Thain sent a letter to Buckland asking for his son to return, and Pippin returned. Ferdi resumed his routine, but he couldn't help noticing that Pippin had misplaced his sense of humour. The lad hardly ever laughed these days, nor smiled much at all.  
  
Odovacar Bolger brought his family for a visit to the Smials. Fredegar had regained his bulk, and then some, fully meriting his nickname of "Fatty", and little Estella had grown to be quite a beauty, Ferdi noted. Everard Took and Fatty took up where they'd left off, before the ruffians came, and evenings invariably found them down at the Spotted Duck, tossing darts, downing mugs, eating the excellent vittles that were part of the draw for the crowd of regulars that showed up nightly.  
  
On one of these evenings, Pippin wandered into the great room to find Estella seated at a table, pot of tea before her, sketching. Ferdi was unobtrusively keeping track of his cousin, not completely trusting him to notify him when he wanted to go out. On more than one occasion, Pippin had slipped away to the Spotted Duck without his escort, and the wrath of the Thain had descended upon Ferdi as a result.  
  
Now he saw Pippin pause behind Estella, looking down at her work. She blushed and put her hand over the sketch, but Pippin gently took her wrist and lifted it out of the way. 'That's quite good,' he said. 'How do you manage to sketch Merry so lifelike, when he's not even here?'  
  
'O I just draw what I remember,' Estella said, trying to smile. 'Here,' she said, pulling another sheet over the picture of Merry, 'watch this!' Under her skillful fingers, a picture of Brandy Hall sprung forth, with little hobbits dabbling in the waters of the River; a splashing fight in the foreground, a few adults seated on the grass watching the bathers in the middle distance.  
  
'That's just right!' Pippin said in wonder. 'So many times I've seen just that scene...' A sudden thought struck him. 'Do you think you could draw...'  
  
'What?' Estella's smile was more real, this time.  
  
'Frodo?' Pippin said.  
  
'Watch,' Estella answered, and taking another sheet, began to draw. 'Frodo always used to put a mug of wildflowers at my mother's place, at breakfast,' she said absently, and soon Frodo looked from the page into Pippin's eyes, a mischievous smile quirking the sides of his mouth, a mug of wildflowers in his hands, the stray lock of hair that would never quite stay in its place bringing an unfamiliar ache to Pippin's throat.  
  
Swallowing hard, he said, 'Yes, that's how I remember him, as well.' He blinked hard, mastered himself, and said, 'Could you do this up nicely, I mean, for a present?'  
  
Looking across at the two from where he sat with Eglantine, the Thain nodded in satisfaction. 'Look,' he said, 'they make a nice couple, don't they?' He smiled. 'Looks as if there's something there between them, doesn't it?'  
  
'That would be nice,' his wife agreed. She'd been so afraid that Pip would fall in love with some other lass, while he was out of the Smials, riding about the Shire with Meriadoc Brandybuck. What a disaster that would be, when they'd had an understanding with Odovacar Bolger for years...  
  
Pippin spent quite a bit of time with Estella, watching the portrait grow under her capable hands, and his parents, and hers, watched the two of them just as closely, congratulating themselves that things seemed to be going quite well, indeed. As a matter of fact, the Bolgers extended their visit so that the portrait could be finished. Odovacar could hardly say no to his daughter; Rosamunda, his wife, enjoyed being back in her girlhood home, visiting with her brother Ferdinand and nephew Ferdibrand; and Fatty was enjoying the victuals at the Spotted Duck.  
  
When the portrait was finished, the Thain hung it up in the great room for all to admire. Estella blushed at the compliments, and Pippin placed a protective arm around her. 'Now, Da,' he remonstrated, 'you're putting the poor lass on the spot and I fear she'll soon shrink to nothing...'  
  
'Nonsense,' the Thain snorted. 'She's done a fine job, and we ought to recognise that.'  
  
'So lifelike,' Eglantine murmured, 'why, it's as if he's about to speak...'  
  
Rosamunda had tears in her eyes. 'That's just how he used to look, of a morning, at Budge Hall,' she said softly. 'The rascal, I miss him still.'  
  
'Who is it for?' Odovacar asked Estella.  
  
'Pip asked me to paint it,' his daughter said shyly. 'You'll have to ask him.'  
  
'For Aunt Esmeralda,' Pippin said, 'in return for all the hospitality she's shown me over the years.'  
  
'That's a fine thought,' Paladin nodded. 'Very thoughtful indeed. I know my sister has always had a soft spot in her heart for young Frodo.' He eyed his son. 'Perhaps you'd like to deliver it yourself.'  
  
'I can have a holiday?' Pippin said, his face brightening.  
  
'Aye, lad, you've worked hard,' his father said indulgently. 'You may take the month of March. Travel back east with the Bolgers, they can send an escort on to Brandy Hall with you, and back home again.'  
  
'We'll give him an escort, all right,' Odovacar said, 'if he'll agree to stop at Budge Hall for a week before he goes on to Brandy Hall. It's been a long time since he's paid the Bolgers a visit, and his cousins are beginning to forget what he looks like...'  
  
Paladin laughed and slapped Odovacar on the back. He thought to add, 'O, and you can take a pack pony of trade goods with you to Brandy Hall, for we're getting low on brandy.'  
  
'Yes, Sir,' Pippin said, a sparkle in his eye for the first time in weeks.  
  
The Thain looked over at Ferdi. 'Well, lad,' he said. 'It looks as if you'll have a few weeks off. You may go visit your sister, or whatever you like. Just be back on the First of April, when my son returns, to take up your duties again.'  
  
'Yes, Sir,' Ferdi answered.  
  
'And give my love to your sister,' Rosamunda Bolger added. 'It seems an age since I've seen my niece, you know.'


	26. Tremours

Notes to readers:  
  
Bookworm, Pippin is indeed maturing slowly. Perhaps a bit too slowly for his father's liking? But it took 33 years to bring him to this point, does his father expect to build Minas Tirith in a day?  
  
FantasyFan, very insightful comments, thank you. I feel as if I am learning more about the characters, seeing them through your eyes. As to Ferdi's patience with the stable fire... he has to hold his temper, he has little choice. There are increasingly serious sanctions amongst the hobbits for "antisocial behaviour", and Ferdi's probably seen some at first hand, being friends with Everard, who is reputed for his hot temper. There will likely be much more discussion of hobbit justice in the story due out after "Merlin" ends (the story of Faramir and Goldilocks). You did see the "ultimate" punishment in "Flames", though, banishment from the Shire. How else could hobbits have gone so long without murder, if not for some way of nipping "antisocial behaviour" in the bud before it escalates?  
  
Pansy, yes, it was fun to imagine the circumstances behind the portrait, and how it played a role in the parents misunderstanding Pip's and Estella's relationship (not that it mattered whether the cousins liked each other, in arranged marriages, sometimes the bride and groom did not even meet until the wedding day--at least Pip and Stella don't have *that* problem). As far as Ferdi's resentment building, well, at the moment he's feeling rather more pity for his cousin than resentment. He had better watch out, not to get caught in the crossfire between Thain and son, though. O, and thanks for posting reviews to "The Other".  
  
Xena, thanks for the comments both here and in "The Other". Have you ever been in a position where you would get the blame for anything that went wrong, whether it was someone else's fault or not? That was part of the reason for Hally's warning in an earlier chapter, about throwing one's lot in with great folk. You need to know where they stand... And having this story run alongside Jewels helps with the writing, immensely. I cannot believe how quickly these chapters write themselves, since I already have a storyline flowing, just have to dip into it once in awhile to stay on course (a bit like canoeing, a very un-hobbitlike sport)  
  
   
All that said, here is today's installment. Comments, as always, are very welcome. Hope to catch you tomorrow! (p.s. Am also adding a new chapter to "Merlin" today, in case you were following that story as well.)  
  
*****  
  
26. Tremours**  
  
Pippin returned from Buckland in better spirits, and Ferdibrand was also refreshed from time in Woody End with Hally and Rosemary, hunting and carving and simply sitting quietly together.  
  
Their routine changed slightly. The Thain had decreed that, since Pippin's pony Socks had a bad habit of kicking out his stall, his son needed to take him on a pre-breakfast outing to work off some of his restlessness, which meant, of course, that Ferdi and Hilly were also up early to accompany him. Ferdi didn't mind that much, but Hilly was unhappy, as he was not by nature an early riser.  
  
Otherwise, things continued as they had before, days slipping by, from planting season, into the growing season. Ferdi raced Dapple once again at the pony races, improving her record as she won third place overall. Pippin's Socks, of course, took first, which pleased the Thain immensely. A few weeks after the pony races, Pippin's birthday was a quieter affair this year, lasting only one day, though Saradoc, Esmeralda and Merry Brandybuck travelled from Buckland to join the celebration.  
  
Not long after Pippin's birthday, Pippin and Ferdi had their most serious falling-out to date. Pippin had left his pony in the field overnight, only to find him in a different field in the morning. Several mares were evidently in season, Ferdi's among them, and Socks had found the fence no barrier at all. The Thain paid off the owners involved, including his escort, but Ferdi took Pippin to task for his carelessness.  
  
'Why didn't you stable him last night?' he demanded, thinking of the inconvenience of his pony in foal, if she were in foal. What would he do for a mount, a few months hence?  
  
'I was tired,' Pippin said defensively. 'You know we've been up early every morning, working hard through the day, and out in the fields after teatime to survey the crops. I wanted to sleep in, for once.'  
  
'Nice of you to tell me that,' Ferdi said sourly. He'd been up as usual, at the stables at the appointed time, to find no Pippin, and the mischief already done.  
  
'Well, think of it this way, with the winner of the pony races siring the foal, and the dam having run in the finals, you ought to get a fast foal out of it, and no stud fee in the bargain... as a matter of fact, the Thain paid you off well, I happen to know.'  
  
'Not well enough to buy another pony to use while Dapple's off work,' Ferdi said under his breath.  
  
'So that's what worries you?' Pippin said. 'Here,' he added, digging in his pocket. 'I still have most of the purse from winning the pony races. How much do you need?'  
  
Ferdibrand's pride was stung. 'Naught,' he said shortly, and turned to walk away, but Pippin's hand caught his shoulder.  
  
'It's my fault, you said,' he hissed, 'and so you will let me rectify my error.' Pressing the purse into Ferdi's unwilling hands, he said, 'Use what you need, you can give the rest back to me if you like, or take it down to the Spotted Duck and stand everyone to a round or two. I would have squandered it, anyhow; you know what a wastrel I am.' The last words were bitter, and Ferdi stared after him as he walked back to the Smials, the usual bounce missing from his step, shoulders stiff, head high.  
  
Things were constrained between them for days afterwards, Ferdi carefully polite, and Pippin distant. Of course, he was distant with everyone these days, cold, even. The Bolgers came for another visit, and Pippin thawed slightly under Estella's warming influence, but once they left, he froze again. Ferdi worried; knowing Pippin's temperament, there must be some sort of pressure building up beneath that icy calm, but the other rejected all his overtures.  
  
The second time the Thain disowned his son came just as harvest was ending. This time, Ferdi was nearly on the spot instead of in Tuckborough, eating his noonday meal in the great room, when Hilly came in search, eyes anxious.  
  
'He's off again,' was all he said, and Ferdi rose abruptly, leaving his meal barely begun.  
  
'What do you mean?' he asked.  
  
'The Thain's thrown him out on his ear; I don't know what they argued about, but I saw him on his way to the stables.'  
  
'Let's catch him,' Ferdi said. He had a feeling Pip would go a lot farther than Buckland, this trip. They strode rapidly to the stables, to find Pippin saddling Socks, evidently about ready to start out.  
  
'Going somewhere, cousin?' Ferdi drawled, elaborately casual.  
  
'Going off,' Pippin said shortly. 'You needn't bother to come.'  
  
'But I'm your escort,' Ferdi answered. 'I have to come, or it's my job, you know.'  
  
'All the way to Gondor?' Pippin said softly.  
  
'Gondor,' Hilly gasped, while Ferdi regarded his cousin in amazement.  
  
'Aye,' Pippin said. 'The Thain has cast me out again, told me to go as far as I can, so I figure Gondor's as good a place as any.'  
  
'Well, you're not going anywhere without me,' Ferdi said doggedly, 'and you know it as well as I do, cousin.'  
  
Pippin stared at him, quizzically, then began to smile. 'You'd really do this?' he asked, some of the hardness going out of him. 'Leave Tookland... forever?'  
  
'Forever is more of a word than I care to use,' Ferdi answered, 'but yes, if need be.'  
  
Hilly backed away, eyes staring. 'You're both daft,' he gulped, and then turned and took off at a run.  
  
'Gone to get Regi, I expect,' Pippin murmured, turning back to Socks, as Ferdi slowly got his own saddle down and went to Dapple's stall.  
  
Pippin was right, Hilly returned with Reginard on his heels. 'What's this, then?' Reginard said. 'Off on a commission for the Thain?'  
  
'In a manner of speaking,' Pippin answered. 'He's tossed me out, Reg, said he didn't care if he ever laid eyes on me again.'  
  
Reginard sighed. For the most part, he'd been able to act as a shield between the Thain and his son, but Paladin had sent him off on an errand this morning. Regi had been working harder than usual at keeping the peace, with the Thain out of sorts and Pip quieter than usual, since Socks had jumped the fence. Regi had had the feeling that Pippin himself might be about to jump a fence or two...  
  
'Lad,' he said now, a restraining hand on Pippin's arm. 'You know how the gout's been bothering him, lately, how short his temper is... were you to go, really go, you'd send his grey head down to the grave in sorrow, you know you would...' he attempted to smile, 'and then where would that leave me?'  
  
'You could be Thain,' Pippin said in frustration, 'and a good one, from what I hear. He's always throwing you in my face, you know.'  
  
'I know,' Regi said quietly. 'That's the way he is, you know. Sings the praises of anyone but the one with him at the time... haven't you figured that out yet?' He shook his head, tightening his grip. 'Don't go,' he pleaded. 'Lad, don't do this. Stay, please stay.' Ferdi stared. It was the first time he'd ever seen Reginard humble himself, and it gave him an uneasy feeling, as if the foundations of the Smials had been shaken by an earth tremour.  
  
'I just don't know,' Pippin said in quiet desperation, looking at the buckle he was adjusting on Socks' bridle. Looking back to Reg, he said, as if Ferdi and Hilly weren't even there, 'I'm losing myself, Reg... I'm not even sure who I am anymore. I feel as if I'm being swallowed whole, and I've got to go, I've got to get out before there's naught left of me...'  
  
'Stay,' Reg said softly. 'Give it just one more try, cousin. I've never known you to quit before.'  
  
Pippin smiled, a wry smile. 'So even a ne'er-do-well like myself has some good points, I take it?' Regi did not answer, and Ferdi found himself holding his breath. The son of the Thain sighed, then, and his shoulders slumped. 'Very well, Reg,' he said. 'I won't quit, not this time, anyhow.' Looking up again with a faint smile, he said, 'But what do I do now? He threw me out...'  
  
'Stay the night at the Duck,' Regi said. 'By morning he'll have forgotten all about this, I wager.' He regarded Pippin with a keen eye. 'Do you have any money?'  
  
Pippin started to shake his head, but Ferdi broke in. 'Yes, he does, as a matter of fact,' he said. 'Just a minute.' He went to where his saddlebags hung, to find the purse with Pippin's prize from the pony races. Ferdi had bought another pony, not a fine one, mind, but what he could afford, with the damages the Thain had paid him, together with his own prize money from the races. He had left Pippin's money in the bag, waiting for the right time to return it. Now he held it out to Pippin, saying, 'Here's your change.'  
  
'I...' Pippin said, but Ferdi pressed the bag into his hand.  
  
'It's yours, you know, you won it fair and square,' he said.  
  
'I don't know what to say,' Pippin said.  
  
'Thank you would be appropriate,' Ferdi said with a meaningful glance, and he was rewarded by the first real laugh he'd heard from Pippin in weeks.  
  
'Thank you,' Pippin said obediently. 'Now, how'd you like to escort me down to the Spotted Duck? I'll buy you a mug, it seems I have coins to waste.'  
  



	27. Ruin

Notes to readers:  
  
FantasyFan, Well, considering all the critical comments he gets from the Thain, I'd imagine it would sting a bit to overhear gossiping servants, or cousins, talking about you and using words such as "wastrel" or ne'er-do-well. Perhaps he even heard Ferdi quoted as having used those words, back before he was assigned to escort duty... As to cohesiveness, I do love it when I can echo something said earlier. I just have to resist the temptation to overuse my favourite bits.  
  
Dana, Go to sleep! (or as Reg would say, Stay in the bed!) But thanks for the faithful reviews. You'll find a little present in your email when you waken.  
  
LadyJea, I know that feeling of being torn, wanting to re-discover the story as opposed to re-reading the other. I'd do it that way myself, if I didn't have to go back and re-read Jewels to make sure I'm being consistent. Perhaps you can let me know if I take something for granted, which makes "Flames" harder for a reader to follow. I'm trying hard to make it a stand-alone story, while still nicely tying everything in with the "Jewels" storyline. O, and "first footing" is not my invention, but a custom I read about somewhere. I do believe it is Scottish, or something like that. The first person to set foot over the threshold of the house after midnight on New Year's is showered with gifts, I think, to ensure a generous portion of luck for the household in the New Year. So you're welcome to use it, and I look forward to that "shock of recognition" when I get to read what you're writing. You will post it to ff.net, won't you? And let us know when/where to find it?  
  
All that said, here is today's installment. Comments, as always, are very welcome. Hope to catch you tomorrow! (p.s. Am also adding a new chapter to "Merlin" today, in case you were following that story as well.)  
  
*****  
  
27. Ruin**  
  
They'd made it through another year, and once again Ferdibrand spent the Yule celebration quietly with his father, who shared Ferdi's aversion to large, brightly burning fires.  
  
Pippin seemed to be settling down, though he still chafed at his father's restrictions, especially the need for an escort whenever he left the Smials.  
  
'It's not as if I'm about to get lost,' he said on more than one occasion.  
  
'Lose yourself, more likely,' Ferdi heard Reginard answer him once, 'and then where would I be?'  
  
'You'd be Thain one day, that's where you'd be, and a good one, at that,' Pippin had retorted.  
  
Regi had shook his head. 'Lad, it takes spirit, and stubbornness, and imagination to be Thain, and I'm not going to make it on my obstinacy alone, I'm afraid.'  
  
'Imagination,' Pippin snorted. 'That's the last thing my father wants to see in me.'  
  
'That's not true, lad,' Regi had said quietly, 'and you know it. What he wants from you is for you to govern your impulsiveness. You have to be able to think things through. If you fly off the handle, do the first thing that comes to mind without considering the consequences, people get hurt.'  
  
Later, over a beer in a quiet corner of the Duck, where they were unlikely to be overheard, Regi said to Ferdi, 'You know, he has the potential to be the finest Thain the Shire has ever known.'  
  
'You think so?' Ferdi said, surprised.  
  
Reginard nodded. 'I know so.' He sipped at his beer. 'One of the things I've had to do, in working for the Thain, is copy out musty old records. There's a lot of history in those records, and I've learnt much about which Thains were effective rulers, and which ones were mere caretakers.'  
  
'O?' Ferdi said encouragingly.  
  
'Well, for one thing, the Thain needs to be bold.'  
  
'Pip's bold enough, I'll say that for him,' Ferdi said. He thought again of his cousin, throwing the ruffians out of the Shire. His Brandybuck cousin had done the planning, though. 'Not something you'll find in every hobbit, I admit.' Half of Ferdi's own boldness, he suspected, was restless energy, after all. If he could just bring himself to sit still, he could be as placid as the next hobbit. The trick was being able to sit still. Ferdi had never quite mastered it.  
  
'He needs to have a heart for the people,' Regi went on.  
  
'Aye, he's got a good heart, when he's not sunk too deep in his own affairs,' Ferdi affirmed.  
  
'He has to have a good head on his shoulders, be able to see all sides of a problem, and find the best solution.'  
  
'He's had enough practice carrying out mischief,' Ferdi said. 'He's shown that he knows how to make a plan and carry it out.' _Mischief, anyhow. But how about something of use? Fool of a Took..._  
  
'He's brilliant,' Reginard corrected. At Ferdi's look of surprise, he slammed his empty mug down on the table in frustration. 'You don't see it, but he is. His father has everyone convinced that he's just a fool, and he acts the part, I don't know whether it's to please old Paladin, or if it's to spite him, but Pip's no fool...'  
  
'Could have fooled me,' Ferdi said quietly.  
  
'Look, I didn't say he was ready to be Thain _now_,' Regi said through his teeth, 'I said he's got potential. One of the things he needs to learn is to think things through.'  
  
'If you say so,' Ferdi said. 'Who am I to say anything? He keeps me on my toes as it is. I just hope he doesn't cut my feet out from under me.'  
  
'He'd never do that, Ferdi,' Regi protested.  
  
Ferdi tilted his mug to get the last of the beer, then put it down on the table, slowly. 'I don't know, Reg,' he said at last. 'I just don't know. He's given us the slip twice already since the New Year. He hates the Thain's rules about having an escort. I'm afraid if he pulls it again, I'm out of a job.'  
  
'He wouldn't do that to you,' Regi said.  
  
'He might, if he didn't think it though,' Ferdi countered. 'You said yourself, that's the area he needs to work on.' He stared into his empty mug. 'I just hope he doesn't use me to learn his lesson the hard way.'  
  
***  
  
In the first week of March, Pippin asked his father once again for a holiday. 'It's not quite planting season, all the planning is done already, and we've some slack time. I've half a mind to visit the Bolgers at Budge Hall, and perhaps go on to Buckland.'  
  
'The Bolgers, eh?' Paladin had said expansively. 'Well, now, that sounds like a fine idea to me.' He turned to Ferdibrand. 'So, Ferdi, you've never seen the Brandywine yet, have you?'  
  
'No, Sir,' Ferdi answered. 'I've only been as far as Woody End, and Bridgefields, of course.'  
  
'Well, it seems you'll be seeing it now,' the Thain said.  
  
'Father, surely I do not need an escort to take me to Brandy Hall!' Pippin protested. 'I've ridden back and forth with Merry enough times I could make the journey in the dark, with my eyes closed, and blindfolded in the bargain.'  
  
'Pippin,' his father said quietly. 'I should not even need to address the matter.'  
  
'Yes, Sir,' Pippin sighed.  
  
Later that day, Pippin and Ferdi were walking back to the Smials from the stables, having put their ponies away after running an errand for the Thain. Ferdi cast an eye at the sky. 'Looks as if we might be getting a storm,' he said. 'When did you want to set off for Buckland?'  
  
'O, there's no rush,' Pippin answered, with his own look at the sky. 'So, you think tomorrow might be an ill day for travel?'  
  
'I do not think it will be as fair as today,' Ferdi said. 'There's a definite change coming.'  
  
'Ah, well,' Pippin said easily. 'We are not bound to leave on the morrow, if a better day presents itself. Let's keep our options open.'  
  
'Fine with me,' Ferdi said.  
  
***  
  
The next day, when he arose, the wind had veered around from the north and was blowing raw and bitter. A steady rain began an hour or two after dawn, and Ferdibrand shivered as he went out, midmorning, to take Dapple, and his new mount, Star, a carrot each. The mare greeted him warmly, and he stroked Dapple's soft nose. 'Good thing you're snug in your stall,' he said. 'It's going to be a nasty day, I warrant. I wouldn't be surprised if it started to snow.'  
  
'Or sleet,' Old Tom said behind him. 'Nasty day, all right, and my bones is aching fierce. It's only going to get worse.'  
  
'Are all the ponies in?' Ferdi asked.  
  
'O aye,' Tom answered. 'D'you think I'd leave them out in this?'  
  
Ferdi was aware of a growing uneasiness. 'But Socks isn't in his stall...' he said.  
  
'Ah, the young master, he took Socks out last night, said he had an errand to run. I thought it odd he was not waiting for his escort, but I figured you'd be right behind him like you always are...' Old Tom said, then stopped short. 'You mean, you didn't know?'  
  
'No,' Ferdi said shortly. 'I didn't.'  
  
He started back to the Smials, to get Hilly, to ride after Pippin. Exiting the stables, he slipped on the stones, and felt on his face the sting of ice falling from the sky. The rain had changed to sleet, and it looked as if the ice was going to build fast. No one would be going out this day, not even after the errant son of the Thain.   
  
***  
  
Ferdi sat in shock in the little parlour where Pearl had put him. He didn't notice when she left the room, nor when she returned, Everard in tow. 'I found him wandering the tunnels,' she said, 'and he wouldn't say a word to me, not a word that made any sense, anyhow. Something's badly wrong, Ev'ard.'  
  
'Something's wrong, all right,' Hilly said from the door. 'He's been sacked.'  
  
'What?' Pearl gasped.  
  
'That brother of yours chose last night to slip his escort again,' Hilly went on. 'And not just for a quick trip down to the Duck for a mug, no, he had to go off to Buckland, by himself, the night before the biggest ice storm in years broke out.' He shook his head and added morosely, 'Ferdi and I have been suspended for letting him go. I may get my job back, but Ferdi...' he shook his head again. 'He's lucky there's an inch of ice on the stones, or he'd be out of the Smials on his ear as we speak.'  
  
'How could he do this to me?' Ferdi muttered to no one in particular. He shook his head in utter bemusement. 'How could he?'  
  
'That's all I was able to get out of him,' Pearl said. 'Pippin slipped the escort?' Her eyes widened. 'He's out... in this?'  
  
'Maybe he made it to Buckland before things got too bad,' Hilly said, but he was not hopeful. 'After all, from what Old Tom said, he left fairly early last night. Had he ridden straight through, he'd have been in Buckland before the dawn.'  
  
'But if he stopped over...' Pearl said. 'Ah, well, so he's stranded at the Cockerel, I'd imagine, or some other inn along the way. He'll have quite a bit of explaining to do once the weather clears.'  
  
'Being icebound, he'll have plenty of time to think of an explanation,' Everard said acidly. 'But that won't help Ferdi any.'  
  
'How could he do this?' Ferdi asked again, still stunned by the completeness of his undoing.  
  
'He'll never work here again, the Thain'll never trust him with any sort of responsible position after this,' Everard said.  
  
'He might become a stable sweeper,' Hilly said sourly.  
  
'No, not after he burned down the old Thain's stables,' Everard countered.  
  
'O yes, that's right, I hadn't thought of that,' Hilly said.  
  
'_Nearly_ burned down the stables,' Pearl said, with a glance at Ferdibrand. Ferdi didn't appear to have heard, he was shaking his head again.  
  
'How could he do this... to me?' he asked plaintively.  
  
'He's in shock,' Pearl said softly. 'Ferdi, can you hear me?'  
  
'How...?' Ferdi muttered.  
  
'Let us put him out of his misery,' Everard said. 'I cannot stand to listen to this any longer.' He put a hand under Ferdibrand's elbow, urging him to stand.  
  
'Where are you taking him?' Pearl asked.  
  
'It's better that you don't get involved,' Everard said. 'After all, he's not exactly in your father's good books at the moment, and if your father finds you with him he'll only have all the more trouble.'  
  
'But... is he going to be all right?' Pearl asked anxiously.  
  
'No,' Everard said honestly. 'No, I don't think so.' He and Hilly escorted Ferdi from the room between them. Over his shoulder, Everard repeated, 'It's better you don't involve yourself, Pearl. Take yourself off now, there's a good lass.'  
  
They took Ferdi down to the great room, seated him in a quiet corner away from the hearth, and then Reginard argued the cooks into giving him a pitcher of ale and three glasses.  
  
'But it's not even elevenses yet!' the cook protested, scandalised.  
  
'We want to get an early start on the day, before all the Tooks realise they're stuck inside and begin to get bored,' Everard said. 'Now are you going to draw me a pitcherful, or am I going to do it myself?'  
  
The cook filled the pitcher and placed it on the tray. 'Make sure there's plenty where that came from,' Everard said. 'I'll be back soon.'  
  
He poured a glassful and encouraged Ferdi to drink it down, and then a second, and shortly thereafter, a third. Ferdi turned toward him then, saying, 'How could he do this?'  
  
'I do not know, lad,' Everard answered, filling the glass again. 'Drink up, now, you're falling behind.' Ferdi obediently drank, not seeming to notice that he was the only one drinking. Several times Hilly got up to refresh the pitcher, and he and Everard ended up having a couple of glasses themselves, shaking their heads over the ruin of one cousin by the thoughtlessness of another.  
  
Hilly and Everard watched and poured as he drank himself into a stupour, then eased him to his feet, walked him to his room, and settled him on his bed. 'He'll sleep now,' Everard said, 'and it was easier to get ale down him than one of those healer's brews.'  
  
'Aye, but will he feel better in the morning?' Hilly asked.  
  
'No,' Everard said, 'but then, I don't think he'll be feeling better any morning soon, ale, or no ale. Why didn't Pip just shoot him? It would have been kinder than this.'  
  
'Pippin never could shoot worth his salt,' Hilly said, but the joke fell flat. He sighed, and added, 'I guess he just didn't think it through.'  
  
Everard pulled up a chair next to the bed and sat down. 'Well,' he said heavily, 'I'll watch with him the rest of the day.'  
  
'I'll spell you after late supper,' Hilly assented. 'D'you think the Thain will really throw him out?'  
  
Everard stared at the sleeping figure in the bed. 'Once he cools off, the Thain'll probably let Ferdi stay. Who else would visit old Ferdinand every night, were his son Ferdi to leave the Smials? But he'd be better off to join his sister and that woodcarver out to Woody End...'  
  
'He won't do that,' Hilly said. 'You know he won't.'  
  
'Too stubborn for his own good,' Everard said. 'Ah, well, it cannot get any worse than this.'  
  
As it turned out, he was mistaken.


	28. Recovering

Notes to readers:  
  
FantasyFan, your comments, as usual, hit the nail right on the head. As you'll see in this chapter, Ferdi draws the same conclusions you did.  
  
Bookworm, as far as Pippin feeling guilt... well, he's going to have a lot on his mind for awhile... and plenty of time for regrets, and it will all be part of the growing process that leads to maturity.  
  
All that said, here is today's installment. Comments, as always, are very welcome. Hope to catch you tomorrow! (p.s. Am also adding a new chapter to "Merlin" today, in case you were following that story as well.)  
  
*****  
  
****28. Recovering**  
  
Ferdibrand slept heavily through the day, rousing only once, to stagger with Everard's aid to take care of necessities, after which Everard guided him back to the bed where he collapsed and was dead to the world. Tolly looked in about teatime.  
  
'I heard,' he said grimly. 'How's he taking it?'  
  
'How would you think?' Everard countered.  
  
Tolly shook his head and leaned against the doorframe. 'I thought Pip was growing up, and then he pulls a stunt like this. What was he thinking?'  
  
'Likely he wasn't thinking at all,' Everard answered. 'He's got a lot to answer for, this time.'  
  
'I tried to warn him,' Tolly said, meaning Ferdi.  
  
'Hah. As if he had a choice in the matter,' Everard countered. 'The Thain told him he'd be heading up Pip's escort, he didn't _ask_. Ferdi was a lamb led to slaughter, is all.'  
  
The corner of Tolly's mouth tightened, to hear Ferdi likened to a lamb.  
  
'And now Pip's off at Budge Hall, or in Buckland drinking brandy, without a care in the world.' Everard's tone was bitter. 'Ferdi is one of the finest hobbits I know; he gave Pip his friendship and his loyalty, and what does our illustrious cousin do? He throws Ferdi away without a thought...'  
  
'He'll be sorry, and he'll make it up when he comes back,' Tolly said.  
  
'Will he?' Everard said darkly. 'The damage has been done. Ferdi'll never trust him again.'  
  
'He ought never to have trusted him in the first place,' Tolly said. 'The Thain, now, he's as set in his course as the Sun in her path through the sky... except where his son is concerned.' He straightened up in the doorway. 'Who'll dance attendance on old Ferdinand this eve? Ferdi doesn't look as if he's quite up to the task.'  
  
Everard looked startled. 'I hadn't thought of that,' he admitted.  
  
Tolly snorted softly. 'You can bet that Ferdi will have thought of it, when he wakens. Let's not give him any more cause for regret this day, shall we?' He pushed off from the door frame. 'I'll go sit with Ferdinand in his son's stead. If Ferdi wakens, you can tell him I've taken care of things.'  
  
'Thank you,' Everard said.  
  
'Hilly's to watch after late supper?'  
  
'That's right,' Everard answered.  
  
'I'll spell him, then, at dawn,' Tolly muttered. 'What with all this ice about, the Thain won't need me to be riding out as his escort on the morrow. Looks as if Hilly and I will have the next few days off, at least until the ice melts.'  
  
'Good, perhaps between the three of us we can keep Ferdi from doing himself some mischief,' Everard answered.  
  
Tolly looked keenly at him. 'Whatever do you mean? He's not the sort to do himself harm, more likely to bury himself in his misery as he did the last time.'  
  
'He might try to ride out after Pip and freeze himself to death,' Everard said, and the other nodded slowly.  
  
'Aye, you have the right of it, he just might see it as his duty. After all, escort is his job, and he'd see a late-arriving escort as better than none at all. He'd see Pippin safe back to the Smials before laying down his duties, for all the Thain sacked him early this morning.'  
  
He shook his head again. 'It's a bad business.'  
  
'Tell me about it,' Everard answered, and Tolly sighed and went off to sit an hour or two with Ferdi's father.  
  
***  
  
The ice continued thick on the stones for some days, and hobbits going between the Smials and outbuildings slipped about even with spikes strapped to their feet. Between them, Everard, Tolly, and Hilly kept a close watch on Ferdibrand, who hardly seemed to notice. He drifted between his room and the great room, closely attended by a cousin, sat quietly staring at his untouched plate while being urged to eat something, finally wandering back to his room again to sit and stare at the wall, or lie on the bed staring at the ceiling. He did not respond to his cousins' attempts to draw him out, and all the other Tooks avoided him, out of courtesy, or pity.  
  
He seemed to waken when the sun came out, nearly a week after Pippin's ill-considered departure, and the ice began to melt.  
  
'Ferdi?' Hilly said softly.  
  
'I'm here,' Ferdi answered. 'Where else would I be?'  
  
'I think you went off your head for a few days, there,' Hilly said.  
  
Ferdi's lips tightened in a humourless smile. 'Likely I did,' he said. 'I felt as if Pip had punched me in the stomach and left me no air to breathe.' He looked about the room. 'I suppose I had better start packing.'  
  
'Reginard smoothed things over with the Thain,' Hilly said hastily. 'He won't throw you out, Ferdi, you can stay if you like.'  
  
'Ah,' Ferdi answered. 'I'll wager I still don't have a job.' Hilly didn't have to answer that.  
  
Ferdi sat up suddenly, saying, 'What time is it? I've got to see my da...' but Hilly was quick to reassure him.  
  
'You missed a few days, Ferdi, but we took care of him between us, Tolly, Ev'ard and myself. Your da's fine.'  
  
Ferdi relaxed with a sigh. 'At least somebody's fine,' he said wryly.  
  
'Things'll get better, you'll see,' Hilly said encouragingly. 'Pip will come back, the Thain will take him to task, he'll apologise and things will be back to normal.'  
  
'Will they?' Ferdi asked softly. 'You think the Thain will take me on again, after what I did?'  
  
'What _you_ did?' Hilly gasped, thunderstruck.  
  
'I knew he was getting restless,' Ferdi said. 'It's not as if he hasn't pulled this trick before, to go off to the Duck alone.'  
  
'It's not the same thing at all!' Hilly protested.  
  
'O aye,' Ferdi said bitterly. 'I should have kept a closer eye on him, I ought not to have trusted him, knowing that he'd slipped his escort on more than one occasion.'  
  
'It is not your fault!' Hilly said.  
  
'That's how the Thain saw it,' Ferdi returned calmly. 'I should have seen it coming, Hilly. I fell down on the job, and if the Thain sticks by his decision I cannot blame him.' He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. 'Besides,' he added, measuring his words. 'I do not want the job back. As a matter of fact, I don't care if I never lay eyes on cousin Peregrin again.'  
  
'What will you do? Go to Woody End?' Hilly asked after a pause.  
  
'Not unless my da agrees to go. I cannot leave him here, Hilly, with no one to look after him.'  
  
'Lots of hobbits look after him,' Hilly countered. 'The Mistress sees to that. She would not let him go neglected.'  
  
'It's not the same as a son or a daughter,' Ferdi said stubbornly. 'Since Rosemary married Hally and left the Smials, there's no one to care for him, and you know that, Hilly. I won't leave him in the care of cousins, no matter how well-meaning.'  
  
'So what will you do?' Hilly asked again.  
  
'I'll pick up the odd job here and there,' Ferdi answered. 'I can work with my hands, you know. There'll be another tournament this summer; if I start now I can fletch enough arrows to sell at the fairing, to keep me going for months...'  
  
'Ferdi the Fletcher,' Hilly said morosely, but Ferdi smiled.  
  
'I can think of worse things to be called,' he said.  
  
Hilly nodded soberly, thinking of their cousin, Pippin.


	29. IllWishing

Note to Readers:   
  
Thanks, Bookworm, for the faithful reviews!  
  
I have added a new chapter to "Merlin" as well, in case you are following that story.  
  
***  
  
**29. Ill-wishing**  
  
Four days later, before the hobbits of the Smials began to arise for breakfast, as Ferdi was crossing the courtyard from the stables, having exercised each of his ponies in the quiet of early morn, a lathered pony clattered into the yard.  
  
Ferdi, being on the spot, grabbed at the reins as the rider threw himself from the saddle. 'Thanks!' he gasped, and ran to the entrance, where he was challenged by a burly Took.  
  
'Message for the Thain!' the impatient rider said.  
  
'He's still asleep,' the guard said truculently.  
  
'Then waken him!' the rider shouted. 'I've no time to waste with fools!'  
  
'You're not a post rider,' the guard challenged. 'That's a quick post pony!'  
  
'Yes, I left Buckland's finest at an inn along the way,' the rider snapped. He showed his hand, then, and the guard gaped to see the seal of the Master of Buckland. 'Now are you going to waken the Thain, or do I have to do it myself?'  
  
_Buckland_, Ferdi thought, automatically beginning to walk the staggering pony, to keep him on his feet and begin the long cooling-out that he'd need. _Bad news from Buckland, eh?_ He'd wager Pip was behind it all, somehow.  
  
Not long after, the guard burst from the Smials, running to the stables, shouting for Old Tom. As Ferdi walked the pony in circles about the courtyard, he saw ponies being brought out and saddled, bags of supplies from the Smials loaded into saddlebags, obvious preparations for a journey. Then the Thain himself emerged from the main entrance of the Smials, face more grim than Ferdi had ever seen before, his wife on his arm, tears bedewing her cheeks. Reginard accompanied them, along with Pearl and Pervinca, and two of the Thain's sisters and their husbands. All in all, quite a party.  
  
Tolly stood at attention, receiving some order, and then the Thain turned to his pony. He mounted heavily, and as he waited for the others to mount, he caught Ferdi's eye, an expression of mingled rage and despair on his face. Ferdi stepped back as from a blow, and Paladin shook his head and looked away. The Thain raised his hand and barked an order, and the group rode out of the courtyard, onto the road towards Stock... and the Bucklebury Ferry... and Brandy Hall.  
  
When they were well away, Ferdi walked the pony over to where Tolly still stood. 'What is it?' he asked softly.  
  
'News from Buckland,' Tolly answered shortly.  
  
'I gathered as much. What news?'  
  
'Pip's dying,' Tolly whispered, and swallowed hard. 'He got caught in the ice storm, nearly froze to death, and now it looks as if the Old Gaffer's Friend* has come to carry him off.'  
  
Ferdi stood as if turned to ice, himself. _The Thain blamed him._ He'd read the look aright, then.  
  
He shakily patted the pony he held. 'Come on, lad,' he said. 'You're not cool enough yet, by a long shot.' They resumed their steady plodding around the courtyard, as Tolly slowly retraced his steps into the Smials.  
  
That evening as he sat with old Ferdinand, his father looked at him intently, as if seeing him for the first time in a long time.  
  
'What is it, Ferdi?' he asked softly. 'You've been off your feed, the past week or so, and now you look as if you'd seen a ghost.'  
  
'It's Pippin,' Ferdi said, after a long silence. 'You know he slipped the escort...'  
  
Old Ferdinand nodded. 'I knew that,' he said quietly. 'Ev'ard told me. He said not to bother you about it, though.' Ferdi was surprised at such consideration from his father, that he'd respected Everard's request.  
  
'It seems he rode out into an ice storm and froze himself near to death, and now the Thain has been called to take his leave of his son,' Ferdi finished. He raised a shaky hand to his brow. Somehow the news sounded worse, here in the darkened innards of the Smials, than it had in the brilliant sunrise this morning.  
  
'He was riding for a fall,' Ferdinand said. 'But then, this has been coming a long time.' He eyed his son. 'Young Pip was always headstrong, and they let him have his head for too long... by the time they tried to train him to take the bit, it was too late. Ruint, like a pony left to pasture too long, gone wild, and come to a bad end...'  
  
He fixed Ferdi with a keen eye. 'And you're grieving over him, are ye? After he pulled you down to ruin with himself?'  
  
Ferdi could not meet his father's gaze. 'Well?' the old hobbit barked.  
  
'Aye,' he admitted on a soft exhalation. 'Aye. If I'd kept a better watch...'  
  
' 'Tis the "ifs" and "should haves" that will bring you down to an early grave lad, believe you me,' his father said earnestly.  
  
'But...' Ferdi said, and fell silent.  
  
'But what, lad?'  
  
Ferdi dropped his eyes, spoke in a whisper. 'I wished him ill, Da. I thought of him, showered with attention at Budge Hall, or sipping brandy with his feet up at Brandy Hall, eager relatives hanging on his every word, and I...'  
  
'You wished he'd get his comeuppance, did you now?' Ferdinand said softly. 'You wished him ill, did you? And now he'll die, and you feel somehow responsible? Ill-wishing never did anyone any harm, save the wisher. Don't take on so, son.'  
  
His tone sharpened at Ferdi's lack of response. 'D'you believe you're the only hobbit as has ever suffered loss?' he demanded. 'D'you believe you're the only one to have made a mistake, and had others suffer for it?'  
  
Shamed, Ferdi shook his head, and his father sat back again, satisfied. 'You must go on with your life, Ferdi,' his father said more softly. 'Make the most of what you've got. Life is too short as it is...'  
  
'If Pippin should die...' Ferdi began.  
  
'If Pippin should die,' his father interrupted, 'then it's on his own head, he brought it on himself, and you must go on, for you're not the one dying,' he said. 'And if he should somehow fool the old Reaper the same's he fooled you, give Death the slip, well, p'rhaps he'll be the wiser for it, and p'rhaps not. Look at me.' Ferdinand waited until he had his son's full attention.  
  
'You've watched out for Pip for a long time, all his life. Ah, he were a winsome child, he were, and we all watched out for him. But no more, lad!' He took a deep breath. 'Now it's time for you to look out for yourself. Bitterness can eat you like a canker, believe me, I know,' he said, and Ferdi nodded.  
  
'I want you to promise me that you'll forgive Pip someday,' Ferdinand said. 'Though he doesn't deserve it, and probably never will get the chance to make it up to you, poor lad, dying as he is. Let him go, let him die, don't carry him about with you, poisoning your life. Forgive him, and move on.'  
  
'I'll try,' Ferdi said.  
  
'A fair promise,' Ferdinand nodded. 'Now, then,' he said. 'How about another bite of that fine stew? And a bit of that bread? Supper tastes uncommonly good this night.'  
  
Ferdi broke off a piece of bread, filled a spoon with the savoury stew and lifted it to his father's mouth, followed by the bread. His father chewed with relish, nodding when he was ready for another bite. 'Ah, that's good,' he said. 'Keep it coming...'  
  
***  
  
*The Old Gaffer's Friend was a Shire term for pneumonia, which carried off the elderly relatively quickly and painlessly.


	30. News

Note to Readers:   
  
I am going on vacation for a week, and while I have written well ahead in both "Merlin" and "Flames", I might not be able to post daily again until after next weekend (say, the 7th of July). However, if I am able to sneak online at all, I will keep posting chapters... Hey, you all keep reviewing, okay? Wouldn't want you to get out of the habit... Those lovely reviews, they keep the Muse happy, along with her pina coladas, and she keeps throwing ideas at me, so it works out for everyone.  
  
I have added a new chapter to "Merlin" as well, in case you are following that story.  
  
***  
  
**30. News**  
  
No news came from Buckland the next day, or the next. The waiting stretched out, with no word from the Thain. Ferdibrand supposed that no news was better than the bad news all were expecting to hear, but still, the waiting told on his nerves. All the Tooks were snappish, as a matter of fact, and the Great Smials seemed strangely empty without the presence of the Thain, his energetic stride echoing through the corridors, his voice booming down the tunnels.  
  
Tolly saw to it that things ran smoothly in Paladin's absence, though he deferred all major decisions until the Thain's return. Several days after the Thain's departure, a messenger arrived from Buckland and was shown to the Thain's study. He closeted himself with Tolly, who ordered a meal served to them there, and a fresh pony saddled, and then the messenger was off again.  
  
Everard knocked on the study door, entering at the quiet invitation to come in.  
  
'What was that all about?' he asked. 'The entire Smials is drowning in suspense.'  
  
'Drowning, eh?' Tolly answered obliquely. 'That sounds more like a Brandybuck thing to do, than a Tookish occupation.'  
  
'Was there any word from my brother?' Everard asked.  
  
'No, the message is from the Thain, though it is written in your brother's hand,' Tolly answered.  
  
'Well? Are you to see to the details of the memorial?' Everard pressed.  
  
'That might be a bit difficult, seeing as how the Thain expressed the intention of staying in Buckland until further notice.'  
  
'He's grown that fond of brandy?' Everard said dryly.  
  
'No,' Tolly said quietly, and shoved the letter across the desk to Everard, who read in silence.  
  
'Well, I could have told you that,' he said at length.  
  
'What?'  
  
'Pip's a stubborn one. If the healer gave him up, saying he expected him to die that night, well, of course Pip would refuse to die, just to spite him. When has he ever done what was expected of him?' Everard said sourly.  
  
Tolly snorted. 'So it looks as if Ferdi will get his apology after all.'  
  
'For all the good it'll do,' Everard said morosely. 'Did you hear he's going to fletch for a living?'  
  
'Not as exciting or prestigious, perhaps, as head of the Thain's escort,' Tolly admitted, 'but he'll make the best of it. And when Pip becomes Thain, perhaps he'll offer Ferdi some position.'  
  
'Hah!' Everard said explosively. 'Ferdi serve under Pip? That'll happen as soon as pigs fly.'  
  
'Would you serve under him?' Tolly asked curiously.  
  
'Would you?' Everard challenged in return, only to nod in satisfaction when the other hesitated. 'I thought not,' he added. 'I know the succession is pretty near inevitable, but if the Tooks could find a way to choose another Thain, at this point, to follow Paladin, I think they would.'  
  
'Well, it's up to Paladin to name his successor, you know, and usually the Thain names his oldest son. It's tradition,' Tolly said. 'We don't have to like it.'  
  
'No, we just have to live with it,' Everard said heavily.  
  
A week later, another message arrived. This time, Tolly stood up in the great room at late supper and raised his arms for quiet. When all eyes were upon him, he said, 'I have news from Buckland.' There was a stir, and then silence. 'Pippin is out of danger,' he said. 'The Thain will be remaining in Buckland for a time.' He looked about, then left the room.  
  
Everard caught up with him, halfway to the Thain's study. 'If Pip's out of danger, why aren't they coming back?' he asked.  
  
'He cannot travel for some weeks, yet,' Tolly answered. He stopped to meet Everard's gaze. 'He nearly died,' he said quietly. 'Have you ever seen what the Old Gaffer's Friend can do to a body? I doubt he'll ever be the same Pip we used to know.'  
  
'Well, that might be a good reason to overrule the succession,' Everard said thoughtfully.  
  
Tolly regarded him for a long moment. 'Don't count your chickens until they're in the pot,' he said finally.  
  
'O, I won't,' Everard answered. 'I just like to keep my options open, is all.'  
  
'Well, keep them to yourself whilst you're keeping them open, then,' Tolly said. 'The Thain won't take to kindly to what you're saying.'  
  
'I'm not the only one saying it,' Everard murmured, but Tolly only shook his head and turned away.  
  
***  
  
The Thain and his entourage returned to the Smials a few weeks later, for planting time was upon them and he did not wish to be away from the Smials during such a critical season. He smiled, though, and seemed satisfied about something.  
  
Ferdibrand found out one night when he came to sit with his father over late supper, as usual.  
  
'Coney pie for supper this night, Da,' he said, settling a serviette under Ferdinand's chin, and digging the spoon into the fluffy crust, to scoop out the first bite.  
  
'Are you going to the handfasting?' his father asked abruptly.  
  
'Handfasting?' Ferdi murmured absently. He hadn't heard of any cousins pledging their troth.  
  
Old Ferdinand snapped the spoonful of pie, chewed, and swallowed. 'You know,' he said, 'our Pip, and your cousin Estella.'  
  
'Handfasting?' Ferdi said. 'First I've heard of it.'  
  
'The Thain's invited all the cousins, everybody who's related in some degree, practically the whole Shire, I hear tell.'  
  
'Ah,' Ferdi said, spooning up another bite.  
  
'You were not invited?' Old Ferdinand said, fixing his son with a keen glance.  
  
'So it seems,' Ferdi answered. 'Here, now, you'll want to eat this whilst it is still hot. The cooks did an excellent job on the supper tonight.' Old Ferdinand let the subject drop, and allowed his son to feed him the rest of his supper, but he shot several troubled glances Ferdi's way before the evening was out.  
  
***  
  
Odovacar Bolger rode into the courtyard while Ferdi was sitting in the sun, fletching arrows. The old hobbit had a strained look on his face in place of his usual broad grin, and Ferdi and the rest of the hobbits of the Smials soon found out why... he heard the roar of the outraged Took even where he sat, with his back against the stables in the afternoon sunshine.  
  
Not long after, Hilly hurried out of the Smials to seek him out. 'Did you hear?' he hissed.  
  
Ferdi calmly put down the arrow he'd just finished, and picked up the next shaft, applying the glue with care, fitting the feathers precisely, winding the securing thread around, and placing the finished arrow with the others. Hilly, of a wonder, waited through the entire process.  
  
'What?' Ferdi said finally, picking up the next shaft. 'I heard an uproar, but not what it was about.'  
  
'Cousin Estella's rejected Pip! She dissolved the betrothal agreement.'  
  
'I always thought she was a sensible lass,' Ferdi said equably, 'even though I suspect it was her stole my da's teeth, the last time she was here.'  
  
'Ferdi, be serious!' Hilly said.  
  
'I am serious,' Ferdi answered. 'Do you know the trouble he has eating without them? I do hope they turn up soon, and not in a pickle barrel, either.'  
  
Hilly dropped his voice. 'It's a terrible scandal,' he said.  
  
'Tell me about it,' Ferdi said. 'Tooks are great ones for gossip.'  
  
'It's all the news,' Hilly said. 'She threw him over for Merry Brandybuck.'  
  
Ferdi was startled into laughing. 'Merry?' he asked in astonishment. 'Merry took something away from Pippin, instead of the other way around? Will wonders never cease!'  
  
'It gets worse,' Hilly said.  
  
'I can't wait,' Ferdi replied.  
  
'In his grief at being rejected, Pip has asked a farmer's daughter to marry him! Can you believe it?'  
  
'Whom?' Ferdi asked, curious.  
  
'One of the north-Tooks,' Hilly said. 'I cannot recall, exactly...'  
  
'Diamond?' Ferdi asked.  
  
'Yes, that was the name! However did you know?' Hilly said curiously.  
  
'I've met Diamond,' Ferdi said shortly. _You're a sly one, Pip_, he thought. _Still up to your old tricks, are you? You get the girl you want, and let your cousin Estella take the blame... well, you won't fool me so easily as you used to._  
  
'Ferdi?' Hilly interrupted his thoughts.  
  
'Sorry, cousin, just had a tricky bit of fletching, you know,' Ferdi answered.  
  
'Of course,' Hilly said, nodding understandingly. 'I'll leave you be now.'  
  
'You do that,' Ferdi said. 'I've got quite a bit of work yet to do, before the tournament, you know.'


	31. Shunned

Note to Readers:   
  
I am going on vacation for a week, and while I have written well ahead in both "Merlin" and "Flames", I might not be able to post daily again until after next weekend (say, the 7th of July). However, if I am able to sneak online at all, I will keep posting chapters... Hey, you all keep reviewing, okay? Wouldn't want you to get out of the habit... Those lovely reviews, they keep the Muse happy, along with her pina coladas, and she keeps throwing ideas at me, so it works out for everyone.  
  
I have added a new chapter to "Merlin" as well, in case you are following that story.  
  
***  
  
**31. Shunned**  
  
The Thain continued to ignore Ferdibrand as if he did not exist, the other Tooks cautiously recognised his existence in the Thain's absence, and Ferdi continued to live in the calm of the archer about to release his arrow. One part of his mind wryly observed that if he were to keep tension on the string, in real-life shooting, for such a long time, he would ruin his bow, or at least the string... he remembered an old story about warriors standing in the rain, bowstrings drawn for so long that the strings stretched and would not launch the arrows properly. However, he could see no other course open to him. He would not leave the Smials, so long as his father remained, and his father steadfastly refused to leave.  
  
'I will not burden Rosemary with my care,' he said yet again, when Ferdi brought the topic up that evening. 'Many hands lighten a heavy load, and I am a heavy load, indeed.'  
  
Ferdi's mouth twisted wryly, but he stirred the stew and lifted another spoonful to his father's mouth. After swallowing, his father said, 'I have a whole Smials-ful of Tooks to watch out after me here!' He gave his son a shrewd glance. 'And even though the Thain pretends not to see you, the Mistress makes sure I am not neglected. Why do you stay?'  
  
Stung, Ferdi replied, 'I will not go, you know that, Father.'  
  
Old Ferdinand sighed. 'A dutiful son,' he said. 'And what have I offered you, all these years? A lifetime of servitude to a helpless, grumbling, fat old hobbit.'  
  
'It is not as if I wait upon your every desire, Da,' Ferdi replied imperturbably. His father threw back his head and laughed, nearly upsetting the next spoonful.  
  
Ferdi put the spoon back into the bowl and gently wiped the tears of laughter from his father's eyes. 'You'd have done the same for Uncle Ferdi, had you been able to pull him from the fire.'  
  
'Instead of having to be pulled out of there myself,' Old Ferdinand sighed. He shook his head. 'Ah, Ferdi,' he said, and his son knew he was not the one addressed, for his father had that faraway look in his eye. 'Whyever did you run back into the fire, for _ponies_. You were worth a dozen ponies to me, and more...'  
  
'You tried to save him,' Ferdi said softly, but his father shook his head again, and when Ferdi started to lift another spoonful, he turned his face away.  
  
'Thank you, my lad, but I don't care for anything more tonight.' Ferdi nodded and laid bowl and spoon aside, neatly folding the serviette.  
  
'Are we finished?' an old auntie said brightly, stopping by old Ferdinand's chair.  
  
'Thank you, Parsley,' old Ferdinand said, looking up. 'We're not quite finished, but you may take the tray.'  
  
He nodded at his son. 'Not quite finished yet,' he said encouragingly. 'How's Dapple?'  
  
Ferdi sat up a little straighter. 'Due to foal any day now,' he said.  
  
Old Ferdinand snorted. 'So our Pip left you something to remember him by.'  
  
Ferdi looked at his father quizzically. 'Remember him by?' he echoed.  
  
His father looked him in the eye. 'He's never coming back,' he said softly. 'Would you?'  
  
Ferdi was shaken. He realised, perhaps for the first time, that he'd been awaiting Pippin's return. Down deep somewhere, he'd counted on Pip straightening out this whole mess, taking the blame, urging the Thain to pardon Ferdi and end the shunning of his former escort.  
  
'No,' he answered quietly, and sighed. 'No, I suppose I wouldn't.'  
  
***  
  
Dapple foaled, a sweet filly who was the image of her sire, smoke-grey dapples with no white markings save three small white circles on her withers.  
  
Old Tom rubbed the little one dry with some old sacking, while Ferdi petted the mare and praised her, and soon the two hobbits had the satisfaction of watching the filly scramble to her feet and begin to nurse, tiny tail signalling satisfaction.  
  
'Ay and she's a fine one,' Tom said in satisfaction. 'What'll you call her?'  
  
'Thruppence seems a good name,' Ferdi said, 'though I hope she's worth more than that!'  
  
Old Tom laughed. 'With her dam and sire, she's worth a far sight more,' he said. 'What're ye going to do with her? She's got the bloodlines to found your own stables.'  
  
Ferdi's lips tightened. 'My da tried that,' he said shortly. 'I will keep her for my own pleasure, as long as I can afford it.'  
  
Old Tom nodded soberly. 'If you cannot...' he said quietly, but Ferdi interrupted him.  
  
'Let us see how well my arrows sell at the tournament,' he said, 'seeing as how I cannot race Dapple for a purse in the pony races this year.'  
  
'I doubt the Thain would give you the purse, were she to take first place,' Old Tom warned.  
  
Ferdi laughed. For a wonder he was not bitter; but his father had been right about bitterness. He was seeing it consuming Paladin, and he pitied the old hobbit more than he resented him. Pippin had not returned to the Smials, but an invitation had arrived inviting the Tooks to his handfasting... to Diamond of Long Cleeve. Ferdi had heard that the Thain raged and foamed and tore the paper into tiny shreds.  
  
Ferdibrand was surprised, then, to see ponies being loaded for a journey, and once again the Thain, his wife, his sisters and their husbands, Pearl and Pervinca, and half a dozen Tooks tapped for escort duty, all mounted, to ride off into the summer morning, the day before the handfasting was to take place.  
  
He sat quietly in his usual place against the stable wall, fingers busy, mind busy as well, wondering... had the Thain forgiven his son? His face certainly had looked grim enough, for one on the way to a happy occasion.  
  
Reginard crossed the courtyard from the Smials and crouched down by Ferdibrand. 'How goes the work?' he said.  
  
'Ah, so you are speaking to me?' Ferdi said, then nodded. 'Of course, the Thain's not here.'  
  
'I am always dancing attendance upon him,' Regi said. 'You know that. I cannot speak to you in his presence; he's ordered you shunned.'  
  
'So what's the news?' Ferdi asked. 'Going to celebrate his son's marriage to a farmer's daughter?'  
  
Regi's lips set in a thin line. 'Going to stop it, rather,' he said.  
  
'O?' Ferdi asked.  
  
'It seems there was a long-standing agreement between the Tooks and the Bolgers, that Pip would marry Stell. And at this handfasting, both will be there, each being joined to the wrong hobbit. Very convenient, them both being there!' Regi said sourly. 'If Paladin can get his own way, he'll see to it that the right hands get joined together in the ceremony, and that will be more binding than any long-standing agreement.'  
  
Ferdi nodded. A handfasting was as binding as a wedding, after all; it joined together two who were as yet too young to marry, but they were considered wed in the eyes of all other hobbits thereafter. Should one die before the wedding, the other would inherit the property, for example. The wedding that came after merely set the seal on the joining and served to mark the moving of the twain from their parents' holes into one of their own.  
  
'Good luck to him, then,' Ferdi said. 'He's got the Brandybucks, the Bolgers, and the north-Tooks to deal with.'  
  
'That never stopped him before,' Regi said. He sighed, and sat down upon the stones.  
  
'What are you hoping for?' Ferdi asked.  
  
'I'm hoping he succeeds,' Regi said honestly. ' 'Twould be hard knocks for Pip, of course, but Estella's a pleasant enough girl. If he would just take the lass his parents picked out for him, settle down and come back to the Smials...'  
  
'Then your life would be a lot easier,' Ferdi said astutely. 'That's it, isn't it. You don't care a fig about Pippin.'  
  
'He treated you very shabbily, indeed, Ferdi, and I've a bone to pick with him over that,' Reginard admitted, 'but you're wrong. It is not that I would take _anyone_ to save me from being saddled with the Thainship, once Paladin's gone.'  
  
'You'd still plump for Pip as Thain?' Ferdi said in amazement. 'Regi, have you gone off your head?'  
  
'No,' Reginard said stubbornly, with a shake of his head. 'No, I stand by what I told you before. Pip's brilliant, he has all the qualities of a great Thain, for all he's young and has made a few bad choices.'  
  
'I'm starting to have my doubts about your suitability for the office,' Ferdi said. 'You're not showing the best judgment at the moment.'  
  
'Ah, well,' Regi sighed. 'It's all moot anyway. Pip's never coming back.'  
  
'So you're stuck, it seems,' Ferdi said.  
  
Regi nodded. 'That I am. I'm to be the next Thain, whether I want it or not.'  
  
'You have my deepest sympathy,' Ferdi said, and meant it.


	32. Shadow

Note to Readers:   
  
I am going on vacation for a week, and while I have written well ahead in both "Merlin" and "Flames", I might not be able to post daily again until after next weekend (say, the 7th of July). However, if I am able to sneak online at all, I will keep posting chapters... Hey, you all keep reviewing, okay? Wouldn't want you to get out of the habit... Those lovely reviews, they keep the Muse happy, along with her pina coladas, and she keeps throwing ideas at me, so it works out for everyone.  
  
I have added a new chapter to "Merlin" as well, in case you are following that story.  
  
***  
  
**32. Shadow**  
  
The Thain and his party returned, Paladin grimmer than ever, and Ferdi heard that he'd not had his own way after all; his son was joined to a farmer's daughter, and naught but death would part them now. Rumour also had it that Pippin had steadfastly refused to return to the Smials. All the Tooks knew he was gone forever; Paladin seemed to be the only Took to hold out hope for Pippin's return. Even Eglantine seemed resigned.  
  
Word came not long after, that the Brandybucks had extended an offer to Pippin, to train as Steward of Buckland under old Cardoc. Things were very tense around the Smials after that; Paladin fuming silently. The Tooks stayed out of his way as much as possible. Ferdi didn't envy Reginard and Tolly, who must needs be in the Thain's presence most of each day.  
  
The barley harvest came around again, and with it the tournament. Once again, Hally and Rosemary and all the little Bolgers came, to set up a booth to sell Hally's woodcarvings. Ferdi turned over all the arrows he'd fletched to his brother-in-love. While the Tooks could not buy from Ferdi himself, under the terms of shunning, Hally had no such constraints, living outside of Tookland. He could sell Ferdi's arrows and turn the money over to Ferdi without fear of repercussions.  
  
Hally and Ferdi went to register for the tournament. Rudibold Took looked past Ferdi to Hally, taking his silver, writing his name upon the lists. Hally took Ferdi's silver from him and pressed it into Rudi's hand. 'Write him down,' he said.  
  
Rudi shook his head, studiously ignoring Ferdi. 'You know I cannot,' he said to Hally. He shoved the silver back at Hally.  
  
Ferdi laughed. 'It's all right, brother,' he said to Hally. 'You and I can walk out together, and I shall be your shadow this day. The Tooks may not be able to watch me shoot, but they'll see me, anyhow.'  
  
'D'you think this is a good idea?' Hally asked.  
  
Ferdi snorted softly. 'The shunning is meant to punish someone who's done wrong,' he answered. 'What wrong have I done? I have no recourse...' He met Rudibold's sympathetic eye before the other hastily looked away. 'What more can he do to me, if I thrust myself into the middle of the tournament? He's already ordered me shunned... I hardly think the Tooks would go along with "bind, blind and over-the-border", even for my heinous crimes.' He picked up the silver and pocketed it again. 'Let us go and shoot for our own amusement, if not for that of the Tooks.'  
  
He put on his brace, though his arm had grown stronger over the past year. No use putting a strain on the arm, after all, when he was only shooting for amusement.  
  
The master of the tournament seemed at a loss to see Ferdi there, but solved the problem by addressing all his remarks to Hally, and unobtrusively setting up an extra target at each round. Ferdi smiled to himself as the tournament progressed. He was shooting as well as he ever had, and the Tooks must be terribly frustrated to have to watch without comment. He did hear an occasional "oooo" for a well-placed shot, quickly suppressed.  
  
They progressed through the events as archers were gradually eliminated, finally coming down to the final two... Tolly, Hally, and Hally's shadow, who didn't count, of course. On the final shot, Ferdi's arrow went true, while Tolly and Hally both missed. Hally bowed to Ferdi ironically, acknowledging him the winner, while Tolly stared off into the distance, but the hint of a grin played about his lips and he might have winked the eye that was turned away from the Thain.  
  
The master of the tournament set up the willow wands for the final round. Ferdi shot again, for amusement, splitting his wand neatly down the center. Hally missed, and Tolly's arrow glanced from the stick, making him the winner, at least in the official record. He bowed to Hally, to the master of the tournament, and then to the crowd, with an ironic grin, then accepted the winner's purse from the hand of the scowling Thain with a last bow, as Hally and Ferdi walked off.  
  
'Pretty good shooting, for a shadow,' Hally said.  
  
'Yes, but I'm the shadow of one of the best in the Shire,' Ferdi returned. 'It makes a difference, you know.'  
  
Rosemary congratulated him as they packed up the waggons. He shared late supper with the Bolgers from Woody End, and Ferdi asked about Estella.  
  
'Well, she's from the rich branch of the Bolgers, you know,' Hally said, 'so we don't get much news, but I hear she spends much of her time at Brandy Hall, and the Brandybucks are not so worried about Merry as they used to be.'  
  
Rosemary squeezed her husband's arm. 'We're rich enough,' she said. 'Don't let my father bother you. Just because he lost all he owned and couldn't marry me off to a "rich" Bolger...'  
  
'He's changed, Rosie,' Ferdi said quietly. 'He's mellowed somewhat.'  
  
'Has he, now?' Rosemary asked.  
  
'O aye,' Ferdi answered. 'I was his last hope, you know, after you married beneath yourself...' Hally punched his arm and he grinned. 'And now I am nobody at all, with no prospects for the future. He has shed his delusions of grandeur and lives in the real world.'  
  
'Can he bear to live in the real world?' Rosemary asked softly.  
  
Ferdi nodded. 'You'd be surprised,' he said. 'He's taught me a few things, these past months. I'm glad I stayed in the Smials, I might never have got to know him otherwise.'  
  
Rosemary reached out a hand, to touch his arm. 'Then I'm glad you stayed, as well.'  
  
'Not that I'd mind moving to Woody End, you know,' Ferdi continued. 'Are you going to ask him, again?'  
  
'I will,' Rosemary said. 'One of these years he'll surprise me and agree to move in with us.'  
  
'Well, you'll have two in the bargain,' Ferdi said. 'The day he leaves the Smials is the day I go as well.'  
  
'That's a promise,' Hally said firmly. 'We won't rent out your room, then.'  
  
'You have a room for me?' Ferdi asked in surprise.  
  
Hally laughed. 'No, but I can build one on, easy enough, once you send word you are coming. And welcome.'  
  
'It'll be nice to be welcome,' Ferdi said softly, and Rosemary rose briskly to hide the tears that came to her eyes.   
  
'How about some more stew before we go to sit with Da?' she said.  
  
'I'd like that just fine,' Ferdi answered, 'if you don't think five helpings is too much.'  
  
'Not at all,' Rosemary smiled, and filled his plate yet again.  
  
Under cover of darkness, Tolly slipped into their circle. 'Hullo, Hally,' he said, nodding at Ferdi.  
  
'Hullo, Tolly, congratulations,' Hally said, and Ferdi grinned.  
  
'I didn't really win, you know,' Tolly said. 'Someone else shot better than I did.'  
  
'I had heard something to that effect,' Hally answered.  
  
Tolly suddenly thrust the purse of winnings at Hally. 'The winner ought to have this,' he said.  
  
Hally tried to push Tolly's hand away. 'You're the winner, according to the rules.'  
  
Tolly shook his head stubbornly. 'No,' he said. 'I won't take it. It's not mine, and I'd rather throw it in the stream than take something that doesn't belong to me.'  
  
'Don't let him do that,' Ferdi said hastily, and Tolly grinned, though he carefully did not look at Ferdi.  
  
'Very well,' Hally said, taking the bag. 'I'll see to it that this ends up in the right place.'  
  
'My thanks,' Tolly answered, and rose to leave. 'And congratulations, to the winner,' he said, studiously avoiding Ferdi.  
  
'I'll pass that on to him,' Hally said. 'Anything else?'  
  
'No, that ought to do it,' Tolly said, and turned away.  
  
When he was well gone, Hally tossed the purse in Ferdi's lap. 'That ought to keep you going awhile, along with the silver you earned for the arrows you fletched,' he said.  
  
'Aye,' Ferdi answered. 'Looks as if I won't have to sell Penny after all.' He sighed. 'At least something went right, for a change.'  
  



	33. Pride

Note to Readers:   
  
I am on vacation for a week, and while I have written well ahead in both "Merlin" and "Flames", I might not be able to post daily again until after next weekend (say, the 7th of July). However, if I am able to sneak online at all, I will keep posting chapters... Hey, you all keep reviewing, okay? Wouldn't want you to get out of the habit... Those lovely reviews, they keep the Muse happy, along with her pina coladas, and she keeps throwing ideas at me, so it works out for everyone.  
  
I have added a new chapter to "Merlin" as well, in case you are following that story.  
  
***  
  
**33. Pride**  
  
Life continued as before. No one talked to Ferdi openly save his own father, and Old Tom, who kept "forgetting", though many oblique remarks were directed from one nearby Took to another, for his benefit. He ate his meals alone, in silence, rode his ponies, trained little Penny, fletched arrows, and spent much more time in his father's company than he ever had before, talking, listening, learning.  
  
Dapple was fit enough to run in the next year's pony races, though Ferdi did not quite have the nerve to force his way into the races the way he had into the tournament. Dapple was growing older, anyhow, and had earned her right to graze in peace whilst the other ponies raced around the course. Ferdi noted, however, that her head jerked up each time the horn blew to announce another heat, and she took herself for a gallop around the edge of the field at one point, so she had her own little race after all.  
  
Ferdi shadowed Hally in the tournament, the month after the pony races, winning once again, though it was Hally who took the purse. Tolly bowed to Hally with a wink to the real winner, and the crowd cheered lustily as Hally waved an arm, Ferdi standing by his side.  
  
Hally turned the purse over to Ferdi that night as they ate their supper, and Ferdi weighed the purse in his hand. 'You know,' he said, 'I might do more than break even this year.'  
  
'Your arrows sold well,' Hally agreed. 'Might start putting some money away towards a rainy day.'  
  
'You might even get married some day,' Rosemary put in.  
  
Ferdi laughed. 'Who'd have me?' he asked.  
  
'Any number of lasses down to Woody End,' Hally remarked. 'The Fox is still well thought-of there, after all.'  
  
'Ah,' Ferdi said. 'Now all we have to do is convince Da to move there.' He sighed. 'Just think, next year at this time, Pip will be married to his love, and mine is nowhere in sight.' He thought again of Pimpernel, off in Bridgefields, and firmly pushed the longing away. She was better off married to a rich Bolger, anyhow.  
  
The days kept on slipping by, though Ferdi felt at times as if he were walking in place, moving neither forwards nor back. He spent another quiet Yule with old Ferdinand, not talking about hopes for the next year, for he had none, really, but instead talking over old times. His father told many stories about his uncle Ferdibrand, now only a dim memory to Ferdi.  
  
Shocking news came from Buckland that Brandy Hall's stables had burned to the ground, taking half the Hall's ponies with it. Several hobbits had died, and many more had breathed smoke or suffered burns, Pippin and Merry among them. Though Pippin was never mentioned by name amongst the Tooks, all knew when he was the subject of conversation. It seemed he had managed to cheat Death once again, though he had been very ill, it was reported. The Thain did not travel to his son's bedside.  
  
Time came for the wedding, and speculation was rife amongst the Tooks: would the Thain attend? ...or stay away? There had been no communication between Paladin and his son for nearly two years now, since the Thain's botched attempt to redirect the handfasting after the pattern of his own choosing.  
  
On a fair evening in the middle of summer, Ferdi sat in the dark depths of the Smials with his father.  
  
'Word is the Thain rode out this morning,' old Ferdinand commented in between bites of fresh berries and cream.  
  
'O aye,' Ferdi said, 'seems he's been invited to a wedding.'  
  
'I'm surprised he went,' Ferdinand said.  
  
'Seems he didn't have much choice in the matter,' Ferdi answered with the ghost of a grin. 'Seems as if Mistress Eglantine put her foot down.'  
  
Old Ferdinand laughed heartily, then sobered. 'I've always been a little afraid of her,' he admitted.  
  
'You and all the rest of the Tooks,' Ferdi said. 'Paladin met his match when he married her.'  
  
'Too bad she doesn't take more of a hand,' Ferdinand said softly. 'I cannot believe she'd stand by while you were shunned.'  
  
'A river can wear down even the strongest rock,' Ferdi answered. 'This wedding... it's just one thing, one day, she can rule over her husband in this little instance. But me now...' he stirred the berries gently, lifted another spoonful to his father's lips. 'She'd have to fight him every day, as long as I stay.'  
  
'I'm sorry, my boy,' Ferdinand said.  
  
Ferdi looked to him with a smile. 'It's all right, Da,' he answered. 'I know why you won't move in with Rosemary and Hally. You won't be a burden on them, and it does not bother you a bit to burden the Tooks of the Smials.' He was rewarded by his father's grin. 'I thought so.'  
  
He put the bowl of berries down, to lift a mug of tea for his father to sip. 'And besides,' he said, 'so long as I stay, I can act as the Thain's conscience.' His father raised an eyebrow, and he continued. 'Every time he sees me, he is reminded that he has done an injustice. Were I to leave, to go to Woody End, he could live on, pretending that naught had changed, that Pip would come back someday, and that I never existed.'  
  
'Ah, Ferdi,' his father began.  
  
'I'm not bitter,' Ferdi said, 'Believe you me, Da, I feel sorry for the old hobbit. I don't expect him to change, I don't expect any apologies from him, but if I'm here to remind him of the consequences of his decisions, then perhaps it'll prevent the shunning of some other undeserving soul, someday.'  
  
'Ferdi...' his father said again, then, 'I'm proud of you, Son.'  
  
Ferdi swallowed hard, hearing the words he'd always longed to hear. All his life he'd done his best, aimed his highest, and now, in disgrace, the words had a poignant sweetness. He smiled, and said, 'Have some more berries, before the cream sours...'  
  



	34. Pardon

Note to Readers:   
  
I am on vacation for a week, and while I have written well ahead in both "Merlin" and "Flames", I might not be able to post daily again until after next weekend (say, the 7th of July). However, if I am able to sneak online at all, I will keep posting chapters... Hey, you all keep reviewing, okay? Wouldn't want you to get out of the habit... Those lovely reviews, they keep the Muse happy, along with her pina coladas, and she keeps throwing ideas at me, so it works out for everyone.  
  
I have added a new chapter to "Merlin" as well, in case you are following that story.  
  
***  
  
**34. Pardon**  
  
Word came that the Thain was a grandfather, Pippin's Diamond had been delivered of a fine son, though no one from the Smials went to the naming day for the lad (_Faramir? What kind of name was that?_).  
  
Shortly before the tournament the following year, the Thain was stricken and took to his bed. Ferdi won the tournament again, and to his surprise, Eglantine, standing in her husband's stead, beckoned him forward and presented the winner's purse to him.  
  
'Congratulations,' she murmured, smiling. He stared, so bemused that he forgot to bow, remembering belatedly at her chuckle. He bowed extra low to make up for his rudeness, and she said, 'That's good enough, Ferdi, no need to kiss the ground.'  
  
He nodded, and she added, 'You may speak to me, you know, and I will answer. _I'm_ not the one who ordered the shunning, and if the Thain knows what's good for him he won't say anything about it to _me_.'  
  
'Yes, Mistress,' Ferdi said. 'Thank you.'  
  
'You're most welcome, Ferdi,' she said, smiling at him--how refreshing to hear his name spoken!--and he bowed again and took his leave.  
  
When Paladin arose from his bed much later, one corner of his mouth drooped, he had a permanent limp, and he used his left hand very little. The healers had worked diligently with him after he was stricken, but had to acknowledge that he would never again be completely whole.  
  
He stalked grimly about the Smials, and the Tooks were elaborately courteous. Regi was more sober than ever, seeing the shadow of the Thainship hanging over him with this illness of the Thain's; Paladin was growing older.  
  
The summer that his grandson turned two, travel preparations were again evident. Ferdi watched from his place by the stable wall, fingers busy with their craft, as the Thain and his wife and a small escort mounted ponies and rode away. Eglantine had a nod and a smile for Ferdi, and he nodded in return.  
  
While the Thain was gone, Regi sought Ferdi out, even taking him down to the Spotted Duck and ordering beer for them both, since Ferdi could not very well order it himself. It was a nice break, and they talked long into the night.  
  
'Too bad the Thain doesn't travel from the Smials more often,' Ferdi said quietly as he sipped his second mug, rare for him, but since this was a rare enough treat, he indulged himself.  
  
'He won't be travelling again, I think,' Regi said soberly. 'He's not well, Ferdi, has never come back from that bad spell, and the healers say another could take him at any time.'  
  
'And then you're stuck,' Ferdi said.  
  
'O aye,' Regi returned, staring into his own beer. 'Unless he can convince Pip to return.'  
  
'Is that where he's gone?' Ferdi asked, surprised.  
  
'That's where he's gone,' Regi affirmed. 'Guess he'll get to meet his grandson in the bargain.'  
  
'D'you think Pip will...?' Ferdi asked.  
  
Regi shook his head. 'Why should he? He's got all he ever wanted. A wife, a child, a responsible position where he can make his own decisions without anyone questioning his every move...' he sighed. 'I'm stuck, all right.'  
  
'Why don't you run away to Buckland?' Ferdi joked.  
  
'I'm sorely tempted, some days,' Regi said.  
  
'Thain Reginard,' Ferdi said. 'Got a kind of a ring to it.'  
  
'Don't, Ferdi,' Reginard said, and he subsided. He knew the other hated the very thought of being Thain, and if Reginard wanted to avoid the idea until it was thrust upon him, Ferdi would go along, except...  
  
'Just one question,' he said.  
  
'What's that?' Regi replied.  
  
'What would your first act be, as Thain?' he asked curiously.  
  
'You mean, like lifting your shunning?' Reginard said after another sip of his beer.  
  
'Something like that,' Ferdi said.  
  
'I'll have to give it some thought,' Regi answered. He pulled his mouth into a lop-sided grin. 'Guess there are some advantages to being Thain after all,' he said.  
  
***  
  
The Thain came back, Pippin-less. At the next year's barley harvest, as Ferdi sat fletching a few more arrows behind Hally's booth at the fair, he was surprised to hear Eglantine's voice.  
  
'Ferdibrand? A word with you?'  
  
He scrambled to his feet, bowing, looking to young Robin Bolger, who hastily pulled up a stool for the Mistress. She seated herself with a gracious smile for the youngster, then dismissed him with a nod.  
  
'Have a seat, Ferdi, rest your feet a moment,' she said then.  
  
He seated himself again on the ground and waited.  
  
'Did you plan to shoot in the tournament again?' she asked.  
  
He cocked an eye at the sky. 'Looks sunny out,' he said obliquely.  
  
'Hally's shadow,' she nodded. Leaning forward, she put a hand on his arm. 'I've come to ask...'  
  
'Yes, Mistress?' he said politely.  
  
'Please, don't,' she said softly.  
  
At his look of surprise, she hesitated, then added, 'My husband is not at all well, and I wish to spare him the...'  
  
'Aggravation?' Ferdi supplied.  
  
'I would have said "sorrow", perhaps,' Eglantine said. She shook her head sadly. 'Stubborn pride, the curse of the Tooks. He ordered your shunning in a fit of anger and then he had too much pride ever to admit he'd made a mistake... please, lad, if not for him, then for me?'  
  
Ferdi rose to his feet and bowed very low. 'For you, Mistress, of course I would do whatever you asked of me.'  
  
'Just don't kiss the ground,' she said lightly, to hide the tears that threatened. Rising, she kissed his cheek. 'You're a good lad, Ferdi,' and turning away, she was gone, back to her escort waiting in the woodcarver's booth, back to walk the fair in her husband's place.  
  
***  
  
The Thain's grandson turned four that autumn, and presents arrived from Buckland for his relatives at the Smials, but of course, Pippin did not bring them. Another Yule came and went, another spring followed.  
  
One cold and rainy eveing, Tolly sought Ferdi out in his solitary room, where, teatime gone and late supper soon to begin, his fingers were busy about their work, trying to finish a few more shafts before it was time to see his father.  
  
'The Thain wants to see you,' he said shortly.  
  
Ferdi looked up in surprise. 'You're talking to me?' he asked.  
  
'I don't see anyone else here,' Tolly snapped, 'and I'm certainly not talking to myself.'  
  
Ferdi put down the shaft he was working on. 'What's happened?' he said quietly.  
  
'You'll hear soon enough,' Tolly answered. 'Are you coming, or not?'  
  
'Do I have a choice?' Ferdi said. 'I was always one to obey the Thain.'  
  
'That you were,' Tolly answered, as Ferdi quickly put his tools and materials away.   
  
He rose, brushing his clothes unnecessarily, running a hand through his hair. 'Am I presentable?' he asked.  
  
'You'll do,' Tolly said dryly. 'I do not think he plans to paint your portrait this day.'  
  
'Ah, but it is the first time he'll have spoken to me in years,' Ferdi said. 'I do not want to offend the hobbit at this late date.'  
  
'Come along,' Tolly said, and he had no more words for Ferdi as he escorted him to the Thain's private quarters. When they reached the door, he said, 'Wait here,' knocked, and entered. A moment later he was back, holding the door open. 'Go on in,' he said.  
  
Ferdi entered slowly, to be met by Eglantine, who led him through the living area to the Thain's bedroom. 'He wants to see you,' she said unnecessarily.  
  
'I'm here,' Ferdi answered, feeling unaccountably nervous.  
  
They entered the bedroom, and Ferdi took a deep breath at the sight of the Thain, propped up in the bed, face grey. He glanced quickly at Eglantine, to see her sorrowful nod. The Thain had taken a bad turn, although the news had not yet spread through the Smials.  
  
The Mistress crossed to the bed, taking up her husband's hand. 'My love,' she said softly. 'Ferdibrand's come.'  
  
The eyes opened wearily, and Paladin spoke, his words slurred and difficult to understand, but Ferdi had long practice, all these years of attending his father, and he knew what was said to him.  
  
'Come closer, lad,' the Thain said. 'Come here.' Ferdi came to kneel by the bedside. The Thain pulled his hand free of Eglantine'd and groped towards him. Ferdi took up the hand and the questing fingers stilled, but the head turned slightly on the pillow and the eyes sought his.  
  
'I... was... wrong,' Paladin gasped out. 'I blamed you for... my son's choices...' It seemed for a moment that he would not be able to continue, but he made an obvious effort to rally himself. He looked to Reginard, on the other side of the bed. 'Lift... shunning,' he said.  
  
'Yes, Sir,' Regi answered. 'At once.'  
  
'Good,' the Thain slurred, then looked back at Ferdibrand. 'Sorry,' he said. 'I'm... sorry.'   
  
Ferdi nodded. 'I forgive you, Sir, if it means anything at all.'  
  
'Means... great deal,' Paladin said, with a slight nod. He released Ferdi's hand. 'Go... with grace.'  
  
'And you, Sir,' Ferdi returned. He bowed very respectfully and turned to go.  
  
***  
  
After the door shut behind Ferdibrand, the Thain gestured weakly to Reginard.  
  
'Dying,' he said.  
  
'No, Sir,' Reginard answered, bending low. 'You can fight this.'  
  
'No,' Paladin answered, and smiled. 'Can't slip... by this time,' he said. 'Promise...?'  
  
Reginard bent closer as Eglantine took her husband's hand, tears sparkling on her cheeks.  
  
'Yes, Sir?' Regi said.  
  
'Bring Pip back,' the Thain said. 'Thain... after me. Bring him back.'  
  
'I'll try, Sir,' Regi said.  
  
'No,' Paladin said, his eyes flashing with a little of the old spirit. 'Try... faugh! Do!'  
  
'Calm yourself, my love,' Eglantine urged, but the Thain's eyes continued to burn into Regi's.  
  
'Yes, Sir,' Regi answered, to calm the old hobbit. 'I will.'  
  
'Good,' Paladin said, settling back on the pillows. He turned his face to his wife.  
  
'Ah, Pip,' he said. 'Nothing I ever did was good... enough...' He took a gasping breath, and another, then said, 'Tell Pip... I wish...' and then his eyes closed, and the next breath never came.  
  
Eglantine clasped his hand between her two hands, bending over to kiss the hand, and then her husband's cheek, not trying to suppress her tears now. 'O my love,' she sobbed. 'May all your dreams be of peace...'  
  
As Regi started to steal from the room, she stopped him. 'Wait,' she said. She slipped the heavy ring, seal and signet of the Thain, from her husband's hand. 'Here,' she said, holding it out to Regi. 'You know what to do with this.'  
  
Taking the ring, he nodded and left the room.  
  
The Tooks were gathered in the great room, busily eating their suppers and chattering away about the events of the day. The news had just leaked out that the Thain had taken to his bed earlier, and much animated talk and speculation was taking place. No one noticed when Regi entered the room, for his place was already set at the head table, and it was not uncommon for him to come late to a meal, or to leave early, due to pressing matters of business.  
  
He did not stop at his own place, however, but stood silently behind the Thain's chair, and seeing him there, the room quieted. He stared down at the Thain's empty place, then placed the Thain's ring precisely in the center of the plate. A gasp swept the room, and complete silence fell.  
  
He didn't have to make the announcement; the ring sitting on the plate told the tale. Thain Paladin was dead.


	35. Freed

Note to Readers:   
  
I am on vacation for a week, and while I have written well ahead in both "Merlin" and "Flames", I might not be able to post daily again until after next weekend (say, the 7th of July). However, if I am able to sneak online at all, I will keep posting chapters... Hey, you all keep reviewing, okay? Wouldn't want you to get out of the habit... Those lovely reviews, they keep the Muse happy, along with her pina coladas, and she keeps throwing ideas at me, so it works out for everyone.  
  
Thanks for the comments! The Muse is purring along, bubbling over with ideas I've no time to write at the moment... with the holiday weekend coming up I don't know what I'm going to do! (Relax, probably. Is it possible to relax, when not writing?)  
  
FantasyFan, your guesses are usually shrewd, but the latest missed the mark... yes, this story is now converging with "FireStorm", but it is not nearly over, as far as I can tell. It will continue through Ferdi's wedding, if I follow the outline. That means it will run parallel to "FireStorm" and "Striking Sparks"; hopefully that won't annoy anyone. I cannot seem to let Ferdi alone... You might see a bit of familiar stuff, but for the most part it will all be newly-written, from a different perspective than the other stories. And, of course, if you do see "familiar stuff" it is only to make this story able to stand alone. I hate reading something and being told to go back and look somewhere else, even though I've done it to you all, all those notes telling you to go back and look at Jewels... ah well.  
  
Since Pimpernel is married to a Bolger at this point in the story, and married to Ferdi in "Merlin", you can see there are a few loose ends to tie up. I toyed with the idea of writing a separate story, but frankly it seemed a lot more work than just continuing this one. Bear with me. I continue to write for my own pleasure, but am so glad that others find pleasure in reading these along with me! (Dangerous to write when depressed, though. I had to take a few days off this week, for I nearly killed off a major "OC" character in a fit of depression... Good thing I had written ahead and could post already-written chapters!)  
  
I have added a new chapter to "Merlin" as well, in case you are following that story.  
  
***  
  
35. Freed  
  
Ferdi was surprised, when he reached his father's place by the hearth in the depths of the Great Smials, to find an old auntie already feeding Ferdinand. On seeing Ferdi enter, she looked up with a smile. 'You're to take late supper in the great room this night,' she informed him.  
  
He stopped short, looking from his father to the old auntie, whose name he'd forgotten. 'Did you mean me?' he asked. Nobody in the Smials talked to him, save his father, whose infirmities caused folk to make allowances, and Old Tom (when he "forgot"). O, and Mistress Eglantine, who had no fear of the Thain, would occasionally address a word or two to him, as well. No one else even looked at him; he was invisible, for all practical purposes. Yet this old auntie was looking him straight in the eye.  
  
'Well I wasn't talking to myself, lad,' she said, exchanging a smile with old Ferdinand.  
  
'Go on, Son, I'm being well looked after this night,' Ferdinand said. 'Tansy and I are catching up on all the gossip. You go eat in the great room, and I will see you later. After supper, perhaps, or on the morrow if need be.' He chuckled. 'As a matter of fact, we had better make it tomorrow; you might be a bit busy this evening, and I plan to go early to bed.'  
  
'Yes, Sir,' Ferdi said, wondering, but Auntie Tansy lifted a spoonful of stew in dismissal, and his father jerked his chin in a nod. Ferdi added, 'I will be back later.'  
  
'On the morrow,' Ferdinand said firmly.   
  
'Tomorrow, then,' Ferdi replied obediently.   
  
His father, gloomy old Ferdinand, actually winked at him. 'Goodnight, then, Son,' he said. 'Now you had better go before late supper is over and done with. Wouldn't want you to miss your evening meal, or anything.'  
  
'Yes, Sir,' Ferdi repeated, and nodding to his father and then Auntie Tansy, who for a wonder nodded back at him, he took himself off.  
  
Late supper was well under way when he reached the great room, but instead of the usual chatter, gossip, and laughter, silence reigned. Ferdi saw the reason when he looked to the head table; the heavy ring that was seal and signet of the Thain rested on the plate set at Paladin's place. Paladin must have died shortly after Ferdi had seen him.  
  
Ferdi accepted the plate that was laid before him and applied himself to his meal, eyes down from long practice of not meeting the gazes of his tablemates. It made it easier that way, less of a temptation for someone to talk to him, getting them both in trouble for violating the terms of the ban imposed by Thain Paladin. The only sound in the room was the clinking of cutlery.  
  
Ferdi kept his eyes down as a chair scraped at the head table, but he jerked his head up as he heard Reginard announce his name. 'Ferdibrand Took, stand forth.' He looked to see Regi, standing at his place at the head table, evidently having just finished his own meal. Locking gazes with Ferdi, Regi nodded his head. Yes, he was to come and stand before the roomful of Tooks.  
  
The sentence of shunning had been originally passed by word of mouth, from one Took to the next, without any formal announcement made. Reginard had given the lifting of the ban some thought, and decided the proper approach was a formal announcement, made when as many Tooks were gathered together as possible. Late supper, when more than usual would attend to gossip about the Thain's taking to his bed, seemed the ideal time. He hadn't thought how it might feel to Ferdi to be put on the spot, after so long a time spent in solitude; at Ferdi's look of apprehension, he nodded encouragingly.  
  
Ferdi walked slowly to the front of the room, all eyes on him. Regi met him before the Thain's place. 'Ferdibrand Took,' he intoned. Ferdi straightened his shoulders. 'By order of Thain Paladin II, I lift the ban against you.' There was a stunned silence, and then a cheer broke out amongst the Tooks, swelling as the news sunk in. Reginard was not yet finished, however, and seeing that he had more to say, the room slowly quieted. Regi took a deep breath, meeting Ferdi's eyes squarely. 'I also convey to you the Thain's public apology,' he said. 'He wished to make it clear that you were unjustly punished for an offence that was not yours, that the ban was imposed through no fault of your own, and that his desire was for the Tooks to hold you blameless, not as one who has paid for his mistakes, but as one who was without guilt from the beginning.' Paladin had said as much to Regi the day before he'd been stricken; Regi wondered if the old hobbit had known, somehow, that his time was about to run out.  
  
Regi took a deep breath and reiterated, 'Ferdibrand Took, the ban is lifted, you are no longer under sentence of shunning. You are free.'  
  
The Tooks began to cheer again, rising from their seats to mob Ferdi, to shake his hand, to pound him on the back, to offer congratulations. He was awash in a sea of words, bewildered by the sudden attention, but it didn't matter. So many cousins were making up for all the words they had not been able to say, all this time, that he didn't have to say anything.  
  
Tolly came up to him with a smile, this time. 'Welcome back to the family, cousin,' he said. 'I had hoped... but...' Ferdi nodded. It would have been all too possible for Thain Paladin to go to the grave with his bitterness intact, leaving the ban in place, throwing Ferdi upon the mercy of the next Thain, Reginard, or whomever the Tooks selected if not Regi.  
  
Hilly came up on his other side. 'This is good news, indeed!' he shouted. 'Join us at the Duck for the celebration! You're the guest of honour, you know!'  
  
Ferdi grinned. The idea was beginning to sink in. Hearing the Thain order Regi to lift the ban was one thing, living it was another. He hadn't realised until now, receiving hugs and good wishes and pats on the back, how lonely his walk had become. It was going to be hard to get used to, but he didn't think he'd mind. Not at all.  
  



	36. Prodigal

Note to Readers:   
  
I am on vacation for a week, and while I have written well ahead in both "Merlin" and "Flames", I might not be able to post daily again until after next weekend (say, the 7th of July). However, if I am able to sneak online at all, I will keep posting chapters... Hey, you all keep reviewing, okay? Wouldn't want you to get out of the habit... Those lovely reviews, they keep the Muse happy, along with her pina coladas, and she keeps throwing ideas at me, so it works out for everyone.  
  
Thanks for the comments! The Muse is purring along, bubbling over with ideas I've no time to write at the moment... with the holiday weekend coming up I don't know what I'm going to do! (Relax, probably. Is it possible to relax, when not writing?)  
  
I do not know when I will be able to update again, before Monday. At least there is no cliffhanger at the moment in this story. If you are pining for angst, go visit "Where the Merlin Cries". Have a lovely weekend, and see you Monday if not before!   
  
I have added a new chapter to "Merlin" as well, in case you are following that story.  
  
***  
  
**36. Prodigal**  
  
Tooks travelled from all over Tookland for the burial of the Thain. Eglantine, having assumed the position of "The Took" upon her husband's death, spoke the ritual words, surrounded by her daughters. Even Pimpernel and her Bolger husband came from Bridgefields, with their little ones, who provided much comfort to their grandmother in this sad time. Pimpernel was expecting again, and Ferdi was satisfied to see Rudivacar Bolger taking as much care of his wife as a dragon might of his hoard.  
  
The only missing member of the Thain's family was Pippin. He was missing, but unmissed, at least, if you were to gauge by the lack of mention of his name. As far as the Tooks were concerned, he was gone, as gone as old Gorhendad Oldbuck had been when he left Tookland, claimed the Eastmarch, and changed his name to "Brandybuck".  
  
There was a three-day celebration of the Thain's life, and then the Tooklanders got back into their waggons and rumbled back home, for it was nearly time for the spring planting, and there was harness to finish repairing and plowshares to sharpen, not to mention all the other preparations that went along with planting time. On the clear days in between the spring storms, hobbit mums and their daughters were busily cleaning out their holes from the long winter occupation: beating rugs, washing curtains, sweeping and dusting and cleaning and waxing. It was a relief for the farmers and their sons to get out from underfoot into the barns and byres and fields.  
  
Reginard spent much time in the company of Mistress Eglantine, and the Tooks of the Smials nodded wisely. Of course, when the period of mourning was over, Regi would be confirmed as Thain. He'd earned it, steady, faithful hobbit that he was, he'd practically run Tookland for the past year after the Thain took to his bed. The formal confirmation would take place at the annual pony races just before Mid-year's Day, a time when many Tooklanders would have occasion to travel to Tuckborough.  
  
Ferdi continued his business of fletching arrows, but now he had the pleasant addition of conversation as he worked, and he no longer hid away in the solitude of his room. He still passed late supper with his father, but now other hobbits joined in with their talk, and there was much laughter and lively debate to brighten old Ferdinand's evenings.  
  
About a week after the burial, the current storm spent itself and the Sun showed her face for the first time in days. Ferdi was sitting in the great room, having a spot of second breakfast, when Tolly sat down opposite him, face longer than usual.  
  
'What's wrong?' Ferdi asked.  
  
Tolly shook his head, sipped at his scalding tea and scowled. 'It's like a bad dream,' he said.  
  
'What?' Ferdi pressed.  
  
'Guess who slipped his escort, rode off early, before early breakfast, even, alone?' Tolly said. 'The Mistress is going to put me on water rations, I just know it.'  
  
'Regi?' Ferdi asked in astonishment. 'Regi slipped his escort? Is the sky about to fall?'  
  
'Been falling the past week,' Tolly said morosely. 'Hadn't you noticed?' Rain always made him gloomy, and he struggled through the long dark winter days, with only his strong sense of duty and the hope of the Sun's return in spring to keep him going.  
  
'Where did he go?' Ferdi asked.  
  
Tolly shrugged. 'Who knows?'  
  
'You don't think...'  
  
'What?' Tolly said. His tea was approaching drinking temperature, and he gulped down half the cup, then turned to his food. He shook his head again. 'Water rations, for sure,' he said. 'How could he do this to me?'  
  
'Do you think he went to fetch...?' Ferdi said.  
  
'You've got to be joking,' Tolly replied, digging into his griddlecakes drizzled with honey. The better they tasted, the worse he felt, knowing that he would soon be having to explain to Mistress Eglantine the neglect of his duties. 'He's a Bucklander now. Going to change his name to "Brandybuck", last I heard.'  
  
'He wouldn't be the first to do that,' Ferdi replied, turning back to his own breakfast before it got cold. 'Still, it's not like Regi, to go off alone. Something's up.'  
  
'I guess we shall see when he gets back,' Tolly sighed.  
  
'Yes, if you haven't starved to death,' Ferdi said. 'Don't worry, I'll put fresh flowers on your grave every Remembering Day.'  
  
'Much obliged,' Tolly said through a mouthful of bacon.  
  
***  
  
A few days later, Hilly rode into the yard with a clatter of hurried pony hoofs. He slid down and threw the reins to a stable lad, then strode into the Smials. Finding Tolly and Ferdi talking over their tea (for Mistress Eglantine, mysteriously, had accepted Tolly's profuse apologies with only a mild scolding and no punishment), he said excitedly, 'Regi's coming, and he's bringing Pip back with him!'  
  
'How do you know?' Ferdi demanded.  
  
'I was at the Cockerel, enjoying my free day with the best beer on the Stock Road, and I saw them come in.'  
  
'You rode to the Cockerel through yesterday's storm?' Tolly asked. 'You're crazier than Ferdi, here.'  
  
'I'm not crazy,' Ferdi said.  
  
'Could have fooled me,' Tolly said, taking a bite of seedcake. 'The hobbit who coined the phrase "fool of a Took" was thinking of you at the time.'  
  
'At least I'm famous for something,' Ferdi quipped, then turned serious again. 'Pip's coming? Here?'  
  
'Where else would he come?' Hilly said.  
  
'He could have been meeting Regi halfway, to get the news of his da,' Ferdi said, 'and then back to Buckland.'  
  
Hilly shook his head stubbornly. 'They came in together, out of the storm, looking half-drowned, the two of them, and the innkeeper showed them the best room, and brought them dinner on trays. Regi was looking after Pip, just like in the old days when he used to follow the son of the Thain around, wipe his nose for him if he sneezed.'  
  
'No, he wouldn't...' Ferdi said, shaking his own head. 'He couldn't bring Pip back... could he?'  
  
'No point in arguing about it,' Tolly said. 'If he does, then he does, and we shall see soon enough.'  
  
'And if he does, I shall be giving Regi a piece of my mind,' Ferdi said grimly. 'What does he think, bringing that wastrel back here?'  
  
'Don't give him too many pieces of your mind, Ferdi, you're going to need all you can garner if Pip comes back... he's not served you all that well in the past. I'd be on my toes, were I you,' Tolly said morosely. Finishing his seedcake, he gulped the last of his tea and rose from the table.  
  
Word spread through the Great Smials that the son of the Thain was returning, and groups of Tooks stood about in the corridors gossiping and speculating, though when Regi and Pippin actually walked into the Smials, they fell silent, offering no greeting to Pippin while welcoming Regi back with questioning looks.  
  
Regi sent Pippin off to greet Mistress Eglantine, then retired to the Thain's study, where he was soon confronted by his brother Everard and an incensed Ferdibrand.  
  
'Why did you bring that wastrel back here?' Ferdi demanded.  
  
'He's nothing but a troublemaker!' Everard said bitterly. 'You're to be the next Thain, Reg, all the Tooks know that.'  
  
'Funny that Thain Paladin didn't know that,' Reginard answered. 'His last order to me was to bring his son back, and I am nothing if not dutiful.'  
  
Though it was pointless, Pippin already on the spot as it were, the two continued to badger Reginard until Pippin himself spoke up from the door. Ferdi could no longer control the bitterness that welled up inside him at the sight of the other, and shot stinging words before stalking from the room.  
  
He shook his head at himself and sought the refuge of his room. He _would not_ allow bitterness to claim him, now, would not waste the effort of the past years, the effort to achieve a measure of peace in the midst of his own personal ruin. But it was a bitter mouthful to swallow, this treachery on Reginard's part, bringing Pippin back to the Smials after his long exile.  
  
***  
  
In the study, Reginard sat and watched Pippin whittling at a stick.  
  
Finally, the younger hobbit spoke. 'I can understand Ev'ard's objections,' he said, 'for he is looking after your interests. If I weren't here, you would be the next Thain. I'm sure you deserve the title; I hear you've done the bulk of the work the past few years.'  
  
'I have tried to carry out Thain Paladin's wishes, to the best of my ability,' Regi said carefully.  
  
Pippin shot him a keen look. 'But why is Ferdi so bitter?' he asked. 'I haven't laid eyes on him, or had words with him since...'  
  
'Since you slipped your escort and rode into the ice storm,' Reginard said quietly. '...and never returned to the Smials again.' He clenched his jaw and tightened his fists. 'Do you really not know what you did to him?'  
  
Pippin looked puzzled. 'I'd slipped the escort before and nothing came of it,' he said.  
  
Regi controlled himself with an effort. 'To go down to the Duck for a mug is one thing,' he said. 'To go off to Buckland, without a word... no, worse, you _misled_ him into thinking you'd leave the next day or the day after, and deliberately rode off without a word to anyone.'  
  
'Did the Thain put him on water rations?' Pippin asked. 'I wasn't thinking about the trouble I was causing Ferdi, really, Reg, I just wanted to think my own thoughts for a time, and then... well, once the ice had me, and the Old Gaffer's Friend* got his claws into me, there was no thinking at all for a long time after.'  
  
'Water rations,' Regi breathed. 'If only it were as simple as that. Pippin...' how to put it? 'Pip, the Thain ordered him shunned.'  
  
'He put Ferdi under the ban?' Pippin said, stunned. 'For letting me trick him? Whether or not there was carelessness on his part, the worst he should get is water rations for a day or three to make him attend more closely to his duty.'  
  
'Ferdi was always one to do his duty, and you know it, Pip,' Reginard returned angrily. 'You played him a shabby trick, and if you'd returned from Buckland a week or two later, I'm sure you'd have smoothed it all over again. But you didn't return, and the Thain blamed him, and put him under the ban.'  
  
'For how long?' Pippin asked, aghast.  
  
'Paladin lifted the ban on the day he died,' Regi said heavily.  
  
'No,' Pippin breathed, closing his eyes in horror, opening them again to stare into Reginard's grim face. 'Even a thief is put under the ban for a year, at most.'  
  
Regi took a deep breath. 'Aye, lad,' he said softly. 'Ferdi's been under the ban ever since you left.'  
  
'But that's years!' Pippin protested.  
  
'Nine years,' Regi nodded.  
  
'Why didn't he leave Tookland?' Pippin asked. 'Why would he choose to live under the ban, for so long a time?'  
  
'Did you forget his da?' Regi asked. 'He never forgot Ferdinand, you can be sure of that.'  
  
Pippin dropped knife and stick and buried his face in his hands. 'O Reg,' he mourned. 'I didn't know... how he must hate me. No need to wonder at the greeting the Tooks gave me just now... I'm to blame for Ferdi's ruin.'  
  
'Well,' Regi said more gently, 'he's not quite ruined, yet. I think he's salvageable, as a matter of fact.'  
  
Pippin looked up. 'What do you mean?' he whispered.  
  
Regi smiled grimly. 'He's won the tournament every year he's shot in it, the past few years, even though he shot as Hally's shadow and could not claim the prize,' he said. 'I'm going to start by assigning him as head of your escort.'  
  
'You're going to...' Pippin said, at a loss for words.  
  
'O aye, little cousin, and if I may offer a word of advice...' Regi said.  
  
'Shoot,' Pippin answered.  
  
Regi snorted at his choice of words. 'Don't try to slip your escort, or that's just what Ferdi might be tempted to do to you,' he said. 'I'm going to go fetch a pot of tea. Shall I bring a cup for you as well?'  
  
=====  
  
[Author's Note: Old Gaffer's Friend: term used in the Shire to refer to pneumonia]


	37. Head

Note to Readers:   
  
I am just returning from vacation... whew... so good to get back to writing again! I am actually sneaking back a bit early... shhh... don't tell my relatives.  
  
Thanks for the comments!   
  
Marion, so good to see you! I know all too well how that "real life" can pop its head up unexpectedly and disrupt the routine. Vacation was fun, but made writing anything at all a challenge. And my relatives are all laughing at me... Yes, gave Tookland a lot of thought before writing, and realising that Ferdi was shunned for nine years gave me pause, as well. But then, I got to thinking... The Tooks could have been used to going along with whatever the Thain decreed, especially during the time of the ruffians when following orders meant safety. I saw Thain Paladin as a very controlling person, come late to the Thainship (Pippin was 25? 27? something like that, I forget exactly--when his father became Thain). Being in control was his own kind of security, and he trained the Tooks to say "How high?" when he said "Jump". If you notice, they still respond to Pippin the same way in "Rope" (when he drops a hint that ham has been served too many times in a week, ham gets taken off the menu!), but Pippin is careful not to abuse his power. The Tooks are definitely out of balance when Pippin first takes the reins, but I think he'll do a good job, especially if he follows Ferdinand's advice... o wait, that's chapter 38, well, you have that to look forward to...  
  
LadyJea, glad to hear your evenings, like Ferdinand's, are being brightened. Glad you like reading the same story from different points of view, for some reason I like writing them that way... (it's like being able to go back to an old conversation and put in all the bits you wish you'd said...)  
  
FantasyFan, good comments as usual. You're right, Ferdi is happier being in the background. He does what he sees necessary, but would rather be acting under authority than being the authority. Still, he's learning how to lead and not just follow. And you are right, Pippin is not one to ignore his mistakes, though he would not be a good leader if all he did was set out to redress his, or Paladin's, wrongs. He must move forward and not back.  
  
Xena, congratulations on the new computer! Will have new chapters for you to review, daily, for the coming week, at least. And then if the Muse keeps whispering, there will be more after that. Let's hope.  
  
Dana, glad you liked the previews! I did add a bit to "Merlin", ch 21, as you'll see when it gets posted. Almost forgot the mice! And your cat sneaked in to the story, somehow... But back to "Flames", thank you for the faithful reviews, and the way you hit the highlights. I'm glad the phone folk got their act together. Hope it stays together for a good long time.  
  
Bookworm, the "fool of a Took" line was my favourite, as well!  
  
Hai, thanks for the good words. Merry was always my favourite, but Pip has slowly gained ground and they are neck and neck in the race... but wait! Here comes Ferdi, gaining fast!  
  
Did I mention that I have written well ahead in both "Flames" and "Merlin" so that you ought to be able to enjoy daily updates, as long as everything goes well? Please keep reviewing, it keeps my spirits up (nearly killed off a major OC last week in a fit of depression, how horrid!) and makes the Muse more tractable.   
  
I have added a new chapter to "Merlin" as well, in case you are following that story.  
  
***  
  
**37. Head**  
  
'You want me to do what?' Ferdi repeated.  
  
'Are you going deaf in your old age, gaffer? That's the second time you've asked. Are we to pension you off, then?' Reginard said. 'Or is it that you're just not paying attention?'  
  
'I cannot believe you want me to ride escort to the Thain.'  
  
'You've won the tournament the last few years running; unless you move away from Tuckborough it is your place to head the Thain's escort,' Regi said complacently.  
  
'Move away...' Ferdi said bleakly. All these years he'd stayed, under the ban, and now, elevated to the position he'd always coveted, he was sorely tempted to go. 'You want me to...' he said slowly.  
  
'No, I do not _want_ you to do anything. I'm telling you. Do I have to make it an order?'  
  
'You can order me to sprout wings and fly, but I'm not about to jump off the top of the Smials just to see if wings magically appear,' Ferdi retorted.  
  
'The Tooks have chosen Pippin as Thain...' Reginard began.  
  
'Not that they had any choice, with Eglantine as The Took putting him forward,' Ferdi interrupted.  
  
'Not to mention the little fact that he _is_ Paladin's son,' Reginard said dryly, 'and so the succession naturally passes to him.' He eyed Ferdi sternly. 'Just as being head of the escort passes naturally to you, as winner of the tournament.'  
  
'Do I have a choice?' Ferdi asked sourly.  
  
'No,' Reginard answered. 'Now go round up Tolly and Hilly, saddle your ponies and Pippin's Socks, and be ready in the yard. He's riding out in a few minutes; I'd hate for you to miss him.'  
  
'Where are we going?' Ferdi asked.  
  
'I'm sure he'll let you know,' Reginard answered. 'I'm not in charge anymore.'  
  
'Could have fooled me,' Ferdi muttered as he turned away. He squared his shoulders. It was a job, just a job, and he would perform as thoroughly as he would have for the old Thain himself. And indeed, if he was stiff and formal, Pippin was equally so. Only necessary words were said, and without any pleasantries or chit chat, the Thain and his escort rode out of the yard.  
  
***  
  
They had ridden into Tuckborough, and if Ferdi was expecting that Pip was off to the Duck for a mug, as in the old wastrel days, he was mistaken. Nor did the new Thain stop in front of any of the grand homes belonging to the more important Tooks who chose not to live in the Great Smials. Instead, he led his escort into one of the poorer sections of Tuckborough, on the outskirts of town, pulling up before a hole dug into the side of the great hill, door looking shabby, needing paint, though the doorknob was polished and the windows were shiny-clean. It was a chilly morning, but no smoke came from the chimney.  
  
'We have business here?' Ferdi asked as the Thain dismounted.  
  
'We might,' Pippin answered, knocked on the door, and entered. Ferdi looked to Tolly, who shrugged, then to Hilly, who shook his head.  
  
'What do we do?' Hilly asked.  
  
'We wait,' Ferdi said.  
  
'It's cold out here,' Hilly protested.  
  
'So you're a delicate flower, going to wilt with a bit of frost?' Ferdi retorted. Hilly subsided, pulling his cloak more closely about his neck. While Tolly and Hilly waited, Ferdi slid from his saddle and eased the door open, to find the Thain talking casually with an old gaffer as if he'd known him all his life, cadging a pipeful of tobacco as if he weren't the most powerful hobbit in the Shire, putting his feet up on the fender before the cold hearth. Evidently a neighbor would arrive later with an armload of wood and a meal for the old hobbit.  
  
Pippin glanced up at Ferdibrand in the doorway. 'Excuse me a moment,' he said to the gaffer. He got up, went to the door, said quietly, 'Cousin, I want you to go out and buy a cord of firewood, have it stacked under the eaves. The gaffer need not shiver through the mornings, waiting on his neighbor's kindness.'  
  
'But...' Ferdi said.  
  
Pippin grinned. 'The Thain's paying,' he said. Ferdi's head whirled... it seemed his cousin had not shed his wastrel ways after all, though this was definitely a different way to squander the gold Paladin had been at pains to accumulate.  
  
'Yes, Sir,' Ferdibrand said without expression. He closed the door and mounted his pony.  
  
'Where are we going?' Tolly said.  
  
'_You_ are staying here, in case the Thain takes it into his head to depart,' Ferdi answered. 'I am running an errand.'  
  
It was chilly enough that he could see his breath, and early enough that the vendors were still setting up in the marketplace, but the woodcutter was there already, stacking bundles of wood neatly for sale to those who could not manage to buy a larger supply at one time. Ferdi asked the price, and shuddered. How could the poorer hobbits warm themselves or their food at those prices? He asked the price of a cord, and nodded, satisfied. It was much less, to buy in quantity, though a poorer hobbit would be hard pressed to scrabble together enough coin to do so.  
  
'I want a cord, and I want it now, by order of the Thain,' he said.   
  
The woodcutter came to attention at that, barking orders to his lads, then turning to Ferdi with the greatest deference. 'The lads, Sir, they'll have a cart filled for you in three shakes, and deliver it to the Smials not long after.'  
  
'No, not to the Smials,' Ferdi said. 'I'll show them where to deliver the wood.'  
  
'Yes, Sir,' the woodcarver said, still stiff and formal.  
  
'Come to the Smials for payment,' Ferdi said. 'See the steward.'  
  
'Thank you, Sir,' the woodcarver bowed, then shouted at the lads. 'Look lively, now! The gentlehobbit doesn't have the daylong to sit and wait on you!'  
  
Ferdi rode slowly along, followed by the lads dragging the cart of wood. He showed them where to stack it outside the old gaffer's hole, under the eaves of the porch that had been built on for a place to sit of a fine summer's eve. He found himself smiling a bit at Tolly and Hilly's astonishment. When the lads were working to his satisfaction, Ferdi knocked at the door and heard laughter within before the cracked voice of the old hobbit bid him enter.  
  
Pippin met his gaze, and Ferdi jerked his chin. Satisfied, the Thain nodded and turned back to his storytelling. Ferdi stood by the door, watching and listening... and wondering. Was this the same Pip who'd left, all those years ago?  
  
He half-expected to ride on, stop at the next shabby hole, but Pippin never did was expected, now, did he... Instead, the Thain turned his pony's head back to the Smials, proceeding at a smart pace. Pulling up before the door, he told Ferdi to carry on the work of finding widows and gaffers in need of firewood. He staggered a little as he slid from the saddle, his shoulders sagged and his face lacked colour.  
  
As Pippin finished giving his instructions, Ferdi interrupted. 'Cousin, are you all right?' Pippin did not look well to his eyes.  
  
'I am well enough,' Pippin answered. 'Very well indeed,' he amended, straightening, his tone becoming formal again. 'I expect a report from you later this day.'  
  
'Yes, Sir,' Ferdibrand nodded stiffly and stepped back. Pippin patted Socks on the nose and nodded to the stable lad to take him. He turned to walk into the Smials, the usual energy gone from his stride. Ferdibrand hesitated, then mounted his pony and led the escort out of the yard.  
  
***  
  
Just before teatime, after a perfunctory knock Ferdi entered the Thain's study. Reginard rose abruptly from his chair, putting an urgent finger to his lips. Following the steward's gaze, Ferdi saw the Thain, propped up on the sofa, asleep.  
  
'He told me to report to him later,' Ferdi whispered, feeling foolish. Looking more closely at Pippin, he said, 'Is he all right?' When Regi didn't answer, he pressed, 'What's wrong with him?'  
  
'Nothing that a new set of lungs wouldn't set aright,' Regi murmured back. He gestured Ferdi over to his desk, indicated that he should sit down, picked up a pen. 'I'll take your report,' he said softly.  
  
Ferdi went over the doings of the day, naming the widows and gaffers he'd arranged to supply with wood at the Thain's expense. Regi noted it down, nodding.  
  
'He's really going to pay for the wood?' Ferdi asked.  
  
'So it seems,' Regi answered, looking over at Pippin, who was snoring softly. 'He's not a dragon, to sit on his hoard.'  
  
'His father's hoard, you mean,' Ferdi countered.  
  
'O aye, but what did Paladin ever do with his gold but tuck it away?' Reginard said. 'At least it is doing some good, now. And next year's wood will come from the Thain's holdings, and all that will need to be paid is the foresters' wages, which he'd be paying anyhow.'  
  
'Have you gone soft, Reg?' Ferdi asked. 'What'll you be giving away next?' Pippin stirred and he lowered his voice. 'Is Pip trying to buy the affection of the Tooklanders?'  
  
Reginard shook his head. 'No,' he said. 'This all comes of the training he got at the hands of the Bucklanders. Seems they take care of their own. No one goes cold or hungry in Buckland. Those who can work, do work, and those who can't are looked after, and if they don't have family to look after them then the Brandybucks of Brandy Hall do it. The Master finds ways for the hobbits to pay so that it's not charity, even if it's just knitting caps or storytelling or watching little ones.'  
  
Ferdi absorbed this information. Thain Paladin had been a shrewd farmer, a careful manager; he'd known the value of a silver penny. Ferdi had never known him to _give_ anything to anyone; he'd expected everyone else to work as hard as he did, pay their way. Families took care of their own... that's what had kept Ferdi at the Smials all those empty years, taking care of his da. It had never occurred to him to wonder what happened to those without family.  
  
He looked at his sleeping cousin, was struck anew at how _unwell_ Pippin looked. 'What's wrong with him?' he said again. 'Is he ill?'  
  
'He's dying,' Reginard said bluntly. At Ferdi's shocked exclamation, quickly bitten off, he added, 'O not this very moment, mind... 'tis a slow death, and he'll fight to prolong it just as long as may be.'  
  
'What are you talking about?' Ferdi whispered.  
  
'When that Old Gaffer's Friend got its claws into Pippin, it ripped his lungs right out. I don't know what he's using to breathe... he's lasted nine years under the care of the Brandybucks, and I hope he'll last at least that long here... but the next cold, or even a good lungful of dust or smoke could carry him off.'  
  
'He was smoking with a gaffer this morning,' Ferdi muttered.  
  
'Aye, and he vowed to give it up shortly thereafter,' Regi said, turning to look at their cousin. 'I thought he was going to drop on the spot, but he wouldn't let me call the healer.'  
  
'If the Tooks knew...' Ferdi said.  
  
Regi swung back to him fiercely. 'The Tooks aren't going to know,' he hissed. 'They're not going to find out from us, now, are they?' He fixed Ferdi with a stern gaze until the other nodded slowly, then added, 'We need him, Ferdi, need his new ideas.'  
  
Ferdi nodded again, thinking of widows and orphans and old gaffers.  
  
Reginard leaned forward and said, 'The Tooks have looked inward too long, Ferdi, they need drawing out. Had we not been stuck in our thinking, we'd have thrown the ruffians out of the whole Shire and not just kept them at bay on the borders of Tookland...'  
  
'You have a point,' Ferdi said softly.  
  
'Was there anything else?' Regi asked, turning back to Ferdi's report.  
  
'No, that's the lot,' Ferdi answered.  
  
'All right, then. It's teatime, time to knock off for the day. Go get yourself something to eat.'  
  
'Right,' Ferdi said, and rose from his chair. With a last look at the sleeping Thain, he eased the door of the study open and softly closed it again. He had a lot of thinking to do.


	38. Gossip

Note to Readers:   
  
I am back from vacation. Kind of/sort of. Actually, I took today off and did laundry and let the children play in the sunshine while I got a bit of writing done. Funny, felt more like a vacation than *vacation* did.  
  
Thanks for the comments!   
  
Xena, funny, I hadn't even thought about how Ferdi lets his concern show, but you're right. The Muse must have sneaked that pert in when I wasn't noticing... she thanks you, by the way, and wants me to reiterate that she will work for pina coladas and reviews.  
  
Bookworm, yes, things are getting better...  
  
As I mentioned, I have written well ahead in both "Flames" and "Merlin" so that you ought to be able to enjoy daily updates, as long as everything goes well. Please keep reviewing, it keeps my spirits up (nearly killed off a major OC last week in a fit of depression, how horrid!) and makes the Muse more tractable.   
  
I have added a new chapter to "Merlin" as well, in case you are following that story.  
  
***  
  
**38. Gossip**  
  
'Did you hear what happened at late supper last night?' Hilly said, bending closer, speaking low.  
  
Ferdi stirred honey into his porridge, added a bit more cream. 'You know I always spend late supper with my Da,' he said.  
  
'The Thain's fork wasn't clean,' Tolly said less glumly than usual.  
  
'O?' Ferdi said, looking up. 'How many missed their meal, then, waiting for all the silver to be picked up, washed, and set down again? Was the food cold by the time you got it? Was the Thain finished eating before half the room was served?' When the Thain finished eating and rose, the meal was over. Tooks had learnt to gobble their food when The Took showed up for meals in the great room. They could always converse over tea after hunger had been satisfied, after all.  
  
'No! That's not what happened at all! Do you know what Pip did?' Hilly whispered.  
  
'He told them to leave everyone's silver and just bring him a clean fork,' Tolly broke in. 'Did you ever?'  
  
'Very sensible of him,' Ferdi said, applying himself to his breakfast.  
  
'And then, he stood up when I was only half finished eating, and some of the folk hadn't even been served yet...' Hilly said.  
  
'...and he told everyone to sit back down and finish their food, not waste it.' Tolly interrupted.  
  
'Very sensible indeed,' Ferdi said. 'Sounds as if our cousin has learnt a few things in Buckland.'  
  
Tolly snorted and Hilly looked insulted. 'Buckland!' he rebuked. 'What good ever came out of Buckland?'  
  
Everard broke into the conversation. 'Buckland?' he said. 'What about it?' He sat down, took the cream pitcher Ferdi passed to him, and made ready to eat his porridge.  
  
'What about Buckland, indeed!' Hilly sniffed, and subsided into his tea.  
  
'I was just wondering,' Everard said cheerfully. The others stared at him.  
  
'Have you been at the beer already today?' Hilly asked suspiciously. 'I cannot remember the last time I saw you smile.'  
  
'Can't a body smile if he's a mind to?' Everard said with a chuckle. He took a huge bite of breakfast and grinned. 'Mmmm, that's good,' he said with satisfaction. 'Beautiful day, isn't it?'  
  
As Ferdi recalled, from the early exercise he'd given his ponies, it was drizzling, and the dawn had promised to be grey and dismal. 'If you say so,' he said. 'What's got into you, Ev'ard?'  
  
'I've been sacked,' Everard said, his grin brightening.  
  
'He's gone off his head,' Tolly said gloomily. 'Round the bend.' He sighed and sipped at his tea. 'First Ferdi, and now Ev'ard.'  
  
' "First Ferdi", what?' Ferdi demanded.  
  
'Pip got you sacked, and you went off your head for nearly a week, and now it's Ev'ard's turn,' Tolly gloomed. 'Wonder how Regi's taking the news.' He sighed.  
  
'Sacked?' Hilly said. 'Whatever for? Did you lose your temper with our new Thain?'  
  
'No, just the opposite,' Everard said. 'I nearly kissed the son of a Took.'  
  
Tolly choked on his tea and required a bit of back slapping before he was able to stop coughing.  
  
'All right, Ev'ard, you've had your fun and Tolly's near choked to death. Would you kindly put us out of our misery and tell us what's going on?' Ferdi said. He looked back down at his cooling porridge, then pushed it away. He hated cold breakfast.  
  
'I'm to be an engineer,' Everard said with wonder in his tone. 'Can you believe it? Pip's taken me off farming and put me on to digging!'  
  
'Will wonders never cease?' Tolly asked glumly. 'He actually got something right. You were always meant to dig in the dirt Ev'ard, and we all knew it.'  
  
Everard sobered. 'Thain Peregrin,' he said, with emphasis on the title, 'is sending me and the _other_ engineers,' he stopped with a look of wonder. '_Other engineers_,' he repeated, and shook his head.  
  
'Sending you where?' Hilly asked.  
  
Everard grinned again. 'To Buckland, to learn some of the new techniques they've found for digging and delving,' he said. 'And I'm to go along, as an apprentice engineer. No more farming for this lad!' He looked down at his bowl of porridge, then pushed it away. 'I've no more time, I need to get ready! We're leaving just after second breakfast.' He rose from the table, said, 'Fare thee well, I shall see you when I see you!' He left the room, whistling jauntily all the way to the door and out.  
  
'Whistling, at breakfast,' Tolly muttered. 'There ought to be a rule against it.'   
  
***  
  
When the coach arrived from Buckland, bearing Pippin's family, Ferdi was off in Tuckborough on an errand and missed the arrival. His father filled him in that evening, however, and the gossip seasoned the simple meal with interest.  
  
'...and just as he handed her out of the coach, someone hissed, "Farmer's daughter!" if you can imagine,' Ferdinand said.  
  
'I can imagine,' Ferdi said. 'Tooks aren't the most polite of hobbits.' He rolled his eyes. Diamond was a pleasant-enough girl, he didn't like to think of her having her feelings hurt by the snobbish Tooks of the Great Smials. He looked sharply at his father. 'So what did Pip do?'  
  
'He lost his temper,' old Ferdinand said with glee. 'Gave those snobs the tongue-lashing they deserved.'  
  
'You should have seen it,' cousin Tansy broke in. 'Cold as ice, he was, didn't even raise his voice but he froze them but good! Reminded them that old Paladin'd been a farmer before he was Thain, said anyone who'd look down on any hobbit what worked with his hands didn't deserve to be a Took and might as well pack up and leave...' Her own husband had been a forester before being killed by a falling snag, leaving herself and their children to move back into the Smials with her parents after his death. She'd suffered enough painful snubs on account of her hard-working husband, to appreciate Pippin's diatribe this day.  
  
There was a stir near the doorway, and suddenly the old aunties who tended Ferdinand were making courtesies as the Thain entered.  
  
'Welcome, lad,' old Ferdinand said. 'I'd heard you were back, but didn't know when I'd get to see you.'  
  
'Thank you, "Uncle" Ferdinand,' Pippin said with a smile. 'I came as soon as I could.'  
  
'Very kind of you, lad, indeed. Or perhaps I should say, "Sir",' Ferdinand corrected himself.  
  
'You're entitled to whatever you wish to call me, "Uncle", and welcome,' Pippin answered.  
  
'Tansy, some tea for the Thain,' Ferdinand ordered. 'Would you care for anything else?' he asked.  
  
'Tea would be fine,' Pippin said.  
  
When he'd been settled in a chair with his tea, the conversation recommenced. 'I understand you've elevated my son to head of your escort,' Ferdinand said.  
  
'It was Regi's doing, actually, though I'd have done the same,' Pippin said. 'I'm told that Ferdi has won the tournament for the past few years, so it is his place to head the escort.'  
  
'In a manner of speaking...' Ferdinand said. 'He couldn't actually enter, you know.'  
  
'I know,' Pippin said softly, his expression pained. He leaned forward. 'Ferdinand, had I known what my father did...'  
  
'Would you have come back?' the old hobbit asked. Pippin's mouth tightened, and the old hobbit nodded to himself and repeated, 'Would you?'  
  
The Thain jerked his chin abruptly. 'Aye,' he said, 'No matter how bitterly it cost me, for my pride and foolishness cost Ferdi far more.'  
  
Ferdi shook his head, embarrassed. 'Pippin, that's all over and done,' he said.  
  
'That may be,' Pippin answered, 'but there's no way to pay you for nine years of your life, under the ban, undeserved, unjustly punished for something I did. I can never make it up to you, Ferdi. I might spend the rest of my life making amends for my father.'  
  
'You might,' Ferdi said cooly, 'but I wish you would just drop the matter here. Forget about it, and move on.' He rose from his seat, addressing his father. 'Da, I'm tired tonight, think I'll turn in early.'  
  
'You do that, Son,' Ferdinand said. 'I hope to see you on the morrow.'  
  
'You can count on me,' Ferdi said. He nodded to Pippin, and to the old aunties, and left.  
  
'Is that all?' Pippin asked. 'Just move on?'  
  
Ferdinand sighed. 'If you were to live another hundred years, I doubt you'd be able to make amends for your father,' he said. 'Paladin was hard, hard and cold and proud, and even when he knew he was being unjust, he kept on, being too proud to admit to any mistake.'  
  
'I don't think I have a hundred years,' Pippin said. 'But I will do my best in the time I do have.'  
  
'You do that, lad,' Ferdinand said. 'Do your best, to be the best Thain you can be. Forget redressing Paladin's wrongs; just make sure _you_ do right. If you prove yourself trustworthy, you'll have Ferdi's trust again, someday. You'll have to work at it awfully hard.' He sighed, then glanced sharply at the other. 'But you're looking a bit weary this evening, lad,' he said, 'and didn't your family just get in today? Seems to me as if you ought to take yourself off, spend some time with them and get some rest in the bargain.'  
  
'I think you're right,' Pippin said, rising.  
  
'You aren't aiming to take my teeth along with you when you go?' Ferdinand said sternly.  
  
Pippin chuckled. 'No, "Uncle", suffice it to say, your teeth are safe from me. I think I've grown beyond those pranks for the nonce.'  
  
'For the nonce?' Ferdinand said.  
  
'Ah, well, you know, if being Thain ever gets to be boring, I might have to take it up again...' Pippin answered.  
  
'Just let me know so I can hide my teeth before you start the mischief again,' Ferdinand said. He and the Thain grinned at each other, and then Pippin left the room.  
  



	39. Fathers

Note to Readers:   
  
Thanks for the comments!   
  
Xena, it seems as if it did not take much for Everard to cheer up, but... have you ever slaved for years in a job you hated? ...with no hope for a change? (The Thain thought he'd be a good farmer, I guess, but his heart was in digging, not plowing... big difference) And as for Ferdi, yes, he was very angry, but remember, he's sloughed off bitterness all these years after seeing how it affected others. I hope you noticed that he's not exactly *friendly* towards Pippin, and he doesn't trust him yet, but at least he has the maturity and balance to serve Pippin for Eglantine and Regi's sake.  
  
Pansy, my idea of a vacation would be to have someone else handle all the mundane details of life and just let me *write*, say, for a few days on end.  
  
Dana, lovely reviews. Loved the quotes. Pip appreciated the good word you put in for him, I'm sure.  
  
As I mentioned, I have written well ahead in both "Flames" and "Merlin" so that you ought to be able to enjoy daily updates, as long as everything goes well. Please keep reviewing, it keeps my spirits up (nearly killed off a major OC last week in a fit of depression, how horrid!) and makes the Muse more tractable.   
  
I have added a new chapter to "Merlin" as well, in case you are following that story.  
  
***  
  
**39. Fathers**  
  
'What're you doing?' a small voice said, inserting itself into Ferdibrand's thoughts.  
  
'Fletching,' he answered, fingers never pausing from their task.  
  
'How d'you do that?' the voice persisted, and he looked up to see the son of the Thain, face alight with interest.  
  
'Wait until I finish this one and I'll show you,' he said, and of a wonder, the lad stood quietly and waited.  
  
Ferdi took the next shaft and walked through the entire process, explaining each step as he applied the feathers to the arrow and secured them there. While he worked, he explained the different ways to shape the feathers, depending on if it were a hunting shaft, or one prepared for target practice or tournament shooting.  
  
Young Faramir wanted to know everything, even down to details like what went into the glue Ferdi used, why he also secured the glued feathers with windings, what kind of bird feathers were used, and myriad other questions about pyles and bows and shooting.  
  
'May I try?' he asked, when Ferdi finished, and the head of the Thain's escort gazed at the young one in astonishment.  
  
'How old are you?' Ferdi said.  
  
'Four, but I'll be five at harvest time,' Faramir said. Ferdi was surprised. The lad spoke as if he were more than twice that age, but then, Pip didn't tolerate baby talk. Ferdi'd heard him holding serious discussions with his tiny son much as if the lad were Reginard, or another adult.  
  
Ferdi shook his head. 'Fletching is not work for a tot,' he said. To his surprise, the youngster did not wheedle, simply watched him fletch the next few arrows.  
  
'Will you teach me when I'm older?' Faramir asked.  
  
Ferdi nodded. 'If you are still interested,' he said absently.  
  
'Soon?' Faramir pressed.  
  
'When you're old enough to use a knife,' Ferdi answered. 'Soon enough.'  
  
Faramir nodded, and sighed.  
  
'What was that for?' Ferdi asked.  
  
'Soon...' the lad answered. 'It means so many things.' He watched Ferdi quietly awhile longer, then said, 'But what exactly _does_ it mean, anyhow?' When Ferdi didn't answer, he added, 'The Brandybucks say my da will die soon, you know.'  
  
Ferdi's fingers stopped their work, reflecting his shock. The lad went on. 'I _do_ wish I knew what they meant by "soon".' He met Ferdi's eyes with a wistful expression. 'Sometimes I think it means "never", or "not for a long time", like when I ask my mum how long until Father Yule will come, and she says, "Soon". But then other times...' he looked down, and Ferdi followed his gaze. The small fingers clasped themselves tightly together, then with an effort, unclasped again, and the lad rose, standing straight and tall as he could, for one of his few years.  
  
'I thank you for the lesson in fletching,' he said with all the dignity a nearly-five-year-old could muster, and with a nod, he turned away.  
  
***  
  
The next day, Ferdi busied himself writing reports on the fields they'd checked the previous morning, listening with half an ear to the business passing between the Thain and his steward Reginard. Diamond entered carrying a tray, followed by Sandy, the Thain's hobbitservant, bearing another.  
  
Pippin looked up in dismay. 'Surely that is not all for me,' he said.  
  
His wife smiled back at him. 'I should make you eat it all,' she answered lightly. 'Seems to me as if you've lost ground rather than gaining it, working so hard. The Tooks are going to think you're insulting them, you know, implying that their cooks are not as good as the Brandybucks'.'   
  
'We cannot have that,' the Thain answered, but he shuddered to see the quantity of food.  
  
She relented then, and added, 'I thought I'd bring enough for Regi and Ferdi as well, what with you working them as hard as yourself. They'll be wasting away to nothing if you're not careful.' She put the tray down and kissed her husband firmly. 'Now you eat all that up,' she said. 'I'll be back for the tray in a bit, or Sandy will.'  
  
The hobbitservant had put his tray down on Regi's desk and now neatly served first the steward, then the head of escort. 'Will there be anything else, Sir?' he asked.  
  
'No, that will be all for now, Sandy, thank you,' Pippin said, and the other nodded and glided from the room.  
  
Pippin managed half a sandwich, then pushed the rest away to sip at his tea. 'Reg,' he said, and the steward laughed.  
  
'Time for Ferdi and me to do our duty, it seems,' he said.  
  
'Have at it,' Pippin answered. 'Please.' Ferdi arose, took his plate, divided the contents between himself and Reginard.  
  
'You really ought to eat more, you know,' he said to Pippin, to be rewarded by a pained look from the Thain.  
  
'Don't you start,' Pippin warned. 'I get enough from Diamond.' Ferdi snorted and returned to his own seat, to finish his, and Pippin's, elevenses.  
  
After Ferdi and Regi had polished off the food, the Thain pushed himself back from his desk. 'Regi, I know we don't usually work past teatime, but I wanted to ride out, survey the fields for myself this afternoon. I don't like to depend completely on the reports of others, you know.'  
  
'I know,' his steward answered. 'Which way are we going?'  
  
'We checked the western fields last week, all the way to the Waymoot road. I'd like to go east this day. If we leave early enough, we can have supper at the Crowing Cockerel and either spend the night or ride back in the cool of the night.'  
  
'Good beer at the Cockerel,' Regi said casually, and Ferdi nodded agreement.   
  
Pippin grinned. 'I suppose we ought to check out the beer, make sure it is up to standard,' he said.  
  
The steward nodded gravely. 'Of course.' He looked to Ferdibrand. 'Ferdi, would you notify the escort and have the ponies readied?'  
  
'Have a meal packed,' the Thain added, 'or Diamond will have my hide.' Ferdi hid a grin as he went to comply.   
  
He found Hilly and Tolly playing at kings in their customary waiting place. 'Wakey, wakey,' he said. 'It is time to take the Thain's pony for an outing, so that he does not kick out his stall.'  
  
'Where are we going this time?' Hilly asked.  
  
'East,' Ferdi answered. 'We'll check the fields all the way to where the woods start, and then I think we might check the woods all the way to the Cockerel.'  
  
'The Cockerel?' Tolly said, brightening a bit.  
  
'Best beer on the Stock Road,' Ferdi said obliquely. 'Go saddle the ponies, I'm to round up a meal.'  
  
'Diamond does pack fine fare,' Hilly said, patting his stomach with a grin. The hobbits surrounding Pippin certainly fared well, thanks to his wife's obsession with stuffing her husband with food at every opportunity.  
  
When Ferdi had seen to all the details, he returned to the study to report the escort was ready and waiting before the Smials. Regi quickly cleared the papers from the desk, putting them neatly away, for Pippin frowned on clutter, and insisted on leaving the desks clear at the end of the day. No chance of a cat straying into the room at night and knocking something important off the desk and under a piece of furniture, as had happened under the old Thain.  
  
'Ferdi,' Pippin said, 'I want you to stay here.'  
  
'What?' Ferdi said, taken aback.  
  
'Honestly, I do not need an escort of four to ride along with me. I haven't lost myself on the way to the Cockerel yet, and I do not intend to do so this day,' Pippin answered.  
  
'Then leave Hilly, or Tolly, or both,' Ferdi protested. 'I'm supposed to be head of the escort.'  
  
'I do not like to take you from your father,' Pippin replied. 'When was the last time you missed a day?' Ferdi was silent. Years, it had been. 'Your duty to your father comes before any duties I might impose,' the Thain added. 'We'll be fine, and I have a few other tasks for you here at the Smials whilst we're gone. I expect a full report in the morning.'  
  
'In the morning?' Ferdi said, astounded.  
  
'We won't be staying over. We'll have supper at the Cockerel and ride back under the stars.'  
  
'It would be better to rest the night and ride back in the morning,' Regi countered.  
  
'Don't coddle me, Regi,' Pippin said sharply, then closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose as his cousins stared at him in astonishment. Taking hold of himself again, he said mildly, 'We will ride out as far as the Cockerel, take late supper there, and ride back again. If you are too tired for the ride back, you can stay over and return in the morning.'  
  
'Yes, Sir,' Regi replied, making a show of tidying his desk.  
  
'Very well,' Pippin said, then turned to Ferdi. 'Here's a list; I expect you ought to get through it by tea time.'  
  
'All right, cousin,' Ferdibrand said.  
  
'Give my regards to your father,' Pippin said.  
  
'I will,' Ferdi answered.  
  
***  
  
That evening, as he told his father of the happenings of the day, old Ferdinand stopped him. 'Pip snapped at Regi, eh?' he asked.  
  
'Yes,' Ferdi said. 'Not at all like him, to snap that way.'  
  
'You said he had a bit of a cough this morning,' his father mused. 'Perhaps you ought to mention this to Diamond. Sounds as if he's not feeling all that well.' The old hobbit sighed. 'Know what that's like,' he muttered to himself.  
  
Ferdi lifted the last of the stew to his father's mouth, then applied the serviette. 'Would you like more?' he asked.  
  
'No...' Ferdinand said. 'No, Son, that was a good meal. Very satisfying.' He sighed. 'D'you suppose you could fill a pipe for me, lad? I have a hankering after a bit of a smoke, to follow that meal.'  
  
'Of course, Father,' Ferdi answered. He took his father's pipe from the mantel, filled it, tamped it down. Taking a slim stick from the bundle of kindling, he forced himself to hold the end in the fire on the hearth until it caught, then lifted it to the pipe and got it going. He was satisfied to see only a small tremour in the fingers that held the flaming stick, and when he transferred the pipe to his father's mouth, old Ferdinand looked satisfied as well.  
  
'Nicely done,' he said. He smoked the pipe in silence, nodding to Ferdi to take it away when he was finished. They sat in silence awhile longer, the occasional desultory comment dropping like pebbles into a quiet pond, little ripples of sunshine in the darkened room. At one point, Ferdi's father commented, 'I'm glad the Thain gave you some tasks to do hereabouts this day, even if you have to miss the best beer on the Stock Road.'  
  
At length, old Ferdinand sighed. 'A cup of tea will do me,' he said, 'and then I think I will sleep. I'm tired this night, Son, but it has been a fine day. A fine day indeed.' He smiled. 'Ah, Ferdi, to see you now... head of the Thain's escort. Who'd have thought it, a bare year ago? And another tournament coming up... Are you going to win it?'  
  
Ferdi chuckled. 'I had thought of losing it, a-purpose, so as not to have to head the Thain's escort, but things seem to be working out...'  
  
'You, lose a-purpose? I didn't think you had it in you,' old Ferdinand said disapprovingly, then looking at his son from under his eyebrows he laughed. 'Ah, I see,' he said. 'Another of your jests. One of these days that leg is going to come off in your hand, you keep pulling at it that way.' He smiled at his son. 'Now how about that cup of tea?'  
  
'Right!' Ferdi smiled back, and turned to the hearth to refill his father's cup. He heard his father sigh behind him. 'What's that?' he asked, but there was no answer.   
  
He turned back to find his father's chin resting on his breast, eyes closed. 'Da?' he asked. He touched the shoulder gently. 'Da?' he said again.  
  
Two of the old aunties came when they heard the teacup shatter on the hearth, to find Ferdi embracing old Ferdinand, weeping silently.


	40. Sons

Note to Readers:   
  
Thanks for the comments!   
  
While it might seem "spooky" that Pippin insisted Ferdi stay behind at the Smials, it is not odd at all, and there was no intention to imply foreknowledge on the Thain's part. Remember, Ferdi had not missed a day *in years* of faithfully visiting his father at late supper, and Pippin knew this and respected it.  
  
Thanks, Lydia, for catching that typo! I have corrected it.  
  
As I mentioned, I have written well ahead in both "Flames" and "Merlin" so that you ought to be able to enjoy daily updates, as long as everything goes well. Please keep reviewing, it keeps my spirits up (nearly killed off a major OC last week in a fit of depression, how horrid!) and makes the Muse more tractable.   
  
I have added a new chapter to "Merlin" as well, in case you are following that story.  
  
***  
  
**40. Sons**  
  
The Thain found Ferdibrand beside his father's bed, where they had moved the old hobbit when the healer had determined that there was nothing to be done.  
  
He laid a hand on the grieving son's shoulder and stood for a long time before he spoke. 'Ferdi?' he said at last. 'They told me when we rode in. I'm sorry.'  
  
Ferdi nodded and said softly, 'I would not have been here, but for you insisting I stay.' The hand tightened on his shoulder, then released its grip.  
  
'I sent a quick post rider to tell Rosemary,' Pippin said. 'He'll reach her by dawn, and then it's a full day for them to come from Woody End. Would you like to have the burial with the dawning of the next day?'  
  
'Aye,' Ferdi whispered. 'That would be fine.'  
  
Pippin nodded, though the other did not see it, and said, 'I will make the arrangements.'  
  
***  
  
Though he'd gone to bed in the wee hours, the Thain arose early as was his wont, working steadily through the morning hours with Reginard. Several times he found himself missing Ferdibrand.  
  
'I hadn't realised how much help his memory is,' he said at one point. 'I'd like him to repeat what that last farmer said. I have a general idea, but Ferdi would give it back to me word-for-word.'  
  
'I'll try to take better notes,' Reginard said, suppressing a yawn. He was tired after the long ride, but if Pippin could be hard at it the next day, who was he to slough his duties?  
  
Just after late supper the Bolgers arrived, having pushed hard to make the two-day trip in one long day. The Thain was on hand to greet them, though he turned his head away several times to cough as they were talking. 'Naught but a cold,' he said hoarsely, in response to Rosemary's concern, then turned the subject. 'All is ready for the burial at dawn, and we'll have the memorial at the noontide feast.'  
  
'Good,' Hally said. 'I figure we might as well stay over, with the tournament only a week away and all.'  
  
'We've room in the Smials,' Pippin said. 'See the steward. No need to tent it for a week.'  
  
'Thank you,' Hally answered, dipping his head. He found the new Thain a pleasant enough fellow, no matter what the talk was.  
  
Rosemary watched through the night by Ferdi's side, at their father's bedside. The two quietly talked over old times as the slow hours passed, but finally cousin Tansy tapped at the door. 'It's nearly dawn,' she said. 'It is time to take your leave.'  
  
'Thank you, Tansy,' Ferdi said, and Rosemary nodded without speaking. She rose, kissed the cold cheek, whispered, 'Good night, Father. May all your dreams be of peace.'  
  
Ferdi repeated the blessing, and then Tansy folded back the blanket that had made it look as if the old hobbit were merely asleep, revealing the white shroud beneath. Together, brother and sister lifted the shroud to cover their father's face, and then Ferdi held Rosemary while she wept and silent hobbits lifted the body to bear it away.  
  
They fell in behind, following the body out of the Smials, where a crowd of Tooks and a number of Bolgers waited. They walked singing to the burial ground, committed Ferdinand to his resting place, sang another song. The Thain spoke the necessary words, and then the crowd dispersed, some singing their way back to the Smials, others going on to necessary tasks.  
  
Ferdi, Rosemary and her family, and the Thain remained. Ferdi noticed that Pippin's breath was rasping as he expressed his condolences to the bereaved, and he made a mental note to mention the fact to Reginard, in case the steward had been kept too busy to notice. Diamond, too, was seeing to the details of the memorial feast, and might not have spent much time in her husband's company lately, what with Pippin going late to bed and rising before the dawn these past two nights.  
  
Being busy with Rosemary and the details of their father's memorial, Ferdi didn't get a chance to talk to either until nearly teatime, only to find that Diamond had retired with a headache, her privacy fiercely guarded by Sandy, and the Thain had accompanied Reginard to tea in Tuckborough.  
  
Frustrated, he sought out Healer Woodruff. 'Pip's riding for a fall,' he said. 'You've got to get him down off that pony before it throws him and tramples him underfoot.'  
  
'Speak plainly, Ferdi,' she said. 'I'm tired this day, and not up to solving riddles.'  
  
'He's off in Tuckborough with Regi at the moment,' Ferdi said, 'but you watch for him, pounce upon him when he gets back, and take a listen to his breathing. I'm no healer, and _I_ even noticed it.'  
  
Later Woodruff sought him out. 'Many thanks, Ferdi,' the healer told him. 'Your riddle came in good time, I think. We've tied the pony down sufficiently, I hope.'  
  
'Pip in bed?' Ferdi asked.  
  
'O aye,' Woodruff said grimly. 'And Diamond, with her headache, is in no humour to listen to his wheedling and let him up any time soon. He's stuck, he is, but good.'  
  
'Good,' Ferdi said. 'It's about time.'  
  
***  
  
Later, he found his steps turning towards old Ferdinand's room. He entered, to find all much as it had been, his father's pipe on the mantle, the knitted blanket neatly folded on Ferdinand's chair as if waiting for him to be moved there from his bed for the day. He took the pipe from the mantle and sank down in his customary place, cradling the pipe in his hands. When he closed his eyes, he could smell the lingering richness of pipeweed smoke, could imagine the crackle of the little fire on the hearth, keeping the little kettle warm, could even imagine that he and his father were sitting in one of their comfortable silences... until a small voice broke into his thoughts.  
  
'Is this your da's room?' Ferdi opened his eyes. As he expected, it was the son of the Thain.  
  
'What are you doing out of bed?' he asked.  
  
The little lad shrugged. 'They're all too busy to notice,' he said. 'It's all a-bustle right now, healers shouting for things and people running in and out.'  
  
This news caught Ferdi in the pit of his stomach, but he managed to say calmly enough, 'And so no one's watching out for you?'  
  
'No,' the lad said.  
  
'Has anyone fed you since tea?'  
  
'No,' little Faramir repeated.  
  
'Sit down here a moment,' Ferdi said. 'Will you stay put if I tell you?'  
  
'I know how to follow orders,' Faramir said.  
  
'Do that,' Ferdi said. 'I'll be right back.'  
  
He returned soon with bowls of stew from the pot the old aunties kept warm in the depths of the Smials, and crusty bread to go with it. He sat Faramir down in Ferdinand's old chair and the two fell to their meal without much to say.  
  
Finally, Faramir showed his empty bowl, and Ferdi nodded gravely. 'Job well done.' He collected the bowls and laid them by the hearth, then he and Faramir sat regarding each other. The lad broke the silence.  
  
'What's it like to die?'  
  
Ferdi blinked. 'Well,' he said slowly, 'I've never died, myself, mind...'  
  
Faramir nodded encouragingly, and Ferdi went on, '...but I've heard tell that you go beyond the Sundering Seas, to a land where there's no hurt or sorrow, and you walk in peace, all griefs forgotten.'  
  
'That doesn't sound so bad,' the lad mused. 'Why are folk so frightened of death, then?'  
  
'Because once you die, there's no going back,' Ferdi said.  
  
'So you're stuck?'  
  
'Aye,' Ferdi answered. They sat in silence awhile longer.  
  
'There's no hurt?' the lad asked at last.  
  
'Aye, and all that was ever taken away is restored to you,' Ferdi answered.  
  
Faramir thought this over. 'So...' he said, still thinking, 'So your da's got his arms and legs back? The ones that were burned away in the fire?' Ferdi nodded. 'And he's got... he's got his brother back, what the fire took away?'  
  
'How did you know about that?' Ferdi asked.  
  
The lad shrugged again. 'People talk,' he said simply. Ferdi nodded. He knew how people talked.  
  
'And my da will have his breath back?' Faramir continued. 'And he'll be able to run, and laugh until he has to hold his tummy, and chase little hobbits and catch them and throw them in the air and catch them again?'  
  
Not trusting his voice, Ferdi only nodded. Faramir considered a moment more.  
  
'That's not so bad then,' he said softly. 'I was afraid it would be all cold, and dark, and lonely, but... I suppose it's not so bad after all.'  
  
The two sons sat quietly for a long time, thinking of their fathers, until the son of the Thain fell asleep, and Ferdinand's son bore him gently to the Thain's quarters, where things had quieted down, and the Thain slept, propped with pillows, healer on watch by the bedside, Diamond dosed to drowsiness and put back to bed to nurse her headache.  
  
No one had missed Faramir or even noticed that he'd crept from his bed. The healer's eyes widened at the sight of Ferdibrand and his burden, but the head of the Thain's escort merely jerked his head towards the lad's room. Woodruff nodded, and Ferdi took the lad to his bed, smoothing the covers over him as gently as his own father might do.  
  
'Good night, lad,' he said softly.   
  
Faramir stirred in his sleep and smiled. 'Night, Da,' he murmured. 'Take me fishing tomorrow?'  
  
'Well,' Ferdi whispered, 'I'll be a bit busy on the morrow, but I'll put Ferdi on it. I'm sure he'll take you if I ask him nicely.'  
  
'Will you?' Faramir asked, still in his pleasant dream.  
  
'You can count on me,' Ferdi whispered, smoothing back a stray curl. 'Sleep now.' He watched the lad's breathing become deep and even, and then stole from the room.


	41. Winner

Note to Readers:   
  
Thanks for the comments!   
  
Faramir is quite a bright little lad, much like our 3yo (only she's not three anymore, more like seven going on twenty-something...).  
  
Thanks, Lydia, for catching that typo in chapter 40! I have corrected it.  
  
As I mentioned, I have written well ahead in both "Flames" and "Merlin" so that you ought to be able to enjoy daily updates, as long as everything goes well. Please keep reviewing, it keeps my spirits up (nearly killed off a major OC last week in a fit of depression, how horrid!) and makes the Muse more tractable.   
  
I have added a new chapter to "Merlin" as well, in case you are following that story.  
  
***  
  
**41. Winner**  
  
The morning of the tournament, Hally showed up at Ferdi's room. 'Are you free?' he said.  
  
'I'm free for the day,' Ferdi answered. 'No escort duty required this day; as a matter of fact, I do believe the Thain will be allowed up for the first time this afternoon, that he might watch the tournament. I do believe they will still be sitting upon him this morning, though.'  
  
Hally smiled. 'Then we can breakfast together, and join the shooting this morning, if you like. I happen to be free, myself.' There had been no time to load up the waggon with wares for sale; the Bolgers had simply tossed the children in with hastily put-up hampers of food and a few changes of clothes, climbed up themselves, and urged the ponies to their best pace, to be in time for Rosemary to watch with her father before the burial.  
  
'How's the arm?' he added.  
  
'Strong,' Ferdi said. 'Gets a little better every year.'  
  
'Better than getting a little worse,' Hally said easily. 'Come along, then.'  
  
Tolly joined them at breakfast, and the rest of the Tooks left a little space around the three finest archers in Tookland, and perhaps the Shire, for others came long distances to shoot for the prize.  
  
'So, how are you feeling this morning?' Tolly asked. His spirits were remarkably lightened by the fact that the days were long and warm and bright with sunshine.  
  
'Substantial,' Ferdi answered, plying his spoon. 'I think I will be more than just a shadow this day.'  
  
'I look forward to it,' Tolly said. 'We'll see if the hobbit can shoot as well as the shadow did.'  
  
'I dunno,' Hally said, shaking his head. 'He was _my_ shadow, after all, and it seems hard knocks now for him to be shooting against me.'  
  
'Hard knocks,' Ferdi said, toasting with his teacup.   
  
Tolly dissolved into quiet laughter. 'You ought to know, you fool of a Took,' he said. 'But why are we wasting our time here? Let us go and shoot!'  
  
The three rose from the table, taking their bows, and joined other small groups wandering about the countryside. Ferdi picked the first target. 'Say there's a badger hiding in that clump of weeds,' he said, 'right behind that bright yellow flower.' He shot, and his arrow took the head from the flower.  
  
'Not fair,' Hally said. 'What's to aim for, now?'  
  
'Just pretend the flower's there, same's pretending the badger,' Tolly said, and raising his bow, he sent an arrow after Ferdi's.  
  
'Not the same at all,' Hally grumbled good-naturedly, then shot his own arrow. They decided that Hally had come closest to the mark, flower or no flower, and so he chose the next target.   
  
'Let us say there's a squirrel waving from that hole in the tree,' he said. 'Are we going to let him get away with such cheek?'  
  
They continued to walk and shoot until the horn blew to announce the nooning.  
  
It was a cheerful feast, and Rosemary sat back with a sigh. 'It has been a wonderful rest,' she said, 'not to cook or wash up for a whole week! I hope I have not lost the knack...'  
  
'If you have, you can move into the Smials,' Ferdi said. 'There's always room, you know.'  
  
'Don't tempt her,' Hally said. 'Who'd cook and wash up if she left Woody End?'  
  
'O Hally, you're terrible,' Rosemary said, punching her husband's arm with a gentle fist.  
  
'O now, do not damage the golden arm!' Ferdi cried in alarm.  
  
'It's all right, Ferdi, you don't need me anymore,' Hally said. 'You can cast your own shadows this day.'  
  
'And he probably will, too,' Tolly said with a frown. 'Ah well,' he added. 'There's always another tournament next year. Maybe Ferdi will break his arm on that wild pony of his...'  
  
'Or his neck,' Hally added. 'We can always hope.'  
  
'Go on with you!' Rosemary protested. 'And if you don't hurry, you're going to be late and the lists will be closed.'  
  
'We had better hurry, then,' Hally said, and with a kiss for his wife he rose from the table. 'Wish me luck.'  
  
'Luck,' Rosemary said obediently, and the little Bolgers chimed in with good wishes for their father.  
  
It was refreshing for Ferdi to hand his silver coins over, to see his name written upon the lists, to hear his name announced with the other archers, to have the crowd cheer him. The cheers swelled with every shot, for he was at the top of his form, winning easily, receiving the bows of the other archers with a grin and bow of his own. It was sweet to hear the master of the tournament declare him the winner, to walk up to the box where the Thain waited with the purse.  
  
He bowed low before Pippin, and then lower before Mistress Eglantine. She smiled, and when the cheers had died enough for her to be heard, said, 'Don't go kissing the ground, now, Ferdi.' She took the purse from her son and handed it to Ferdibrand.   
  
'Congratulations, lad,' she said. 'I wish your father had seen this day.'  
  
'As do I,' Ferdi said, swallowing hard. 'He'd have been proud.'  
  
'He was proud anyhow,' Eglantine said. 'You can be sure of that.'  
  
'I know,' Ferdi answered. 'He told me so, himself.'


	42. Bitterness

Note to Readers:   
  
Thanks for the comments!   
  
As I mentioned, I have written well ahead in both "Flames" and "Merlin" so that you ought to be able to enjoy daily updates, as long as everything goes well. Please keep reviewing, it keeps my spirits up (nearly killed off a major OC last week in a fit of depression, how horrid!) and makes the Muse more tractable.   
  
I have added a new chapter to "Merlin" as well, in case you are following that story.  
  
***  
  
**42. Bitterness**  
  
That evening, at the feast following the tournament, Ferdi could hardly eat for all the congratulations. Hally smiled and shook his head, more than once, as Ferdi was arrested with his fork halfway to his mouth by someone with a slap for his back, a shake for his hand, a word for his ear... and Ferdi's brother-in-love laughed outright when Ferdi finally gave over and pushed his plate away.  
  
'At least when you were a shadow, you got to eat,' he said, and Ferdi chuckled.  
  
'There'll be another meal on the morrow,' he answered. 'Six, actually.'  
  
Pippin and Diamond sat at the head table with Faramir, who'd been allowed to stay up for the festive occasion, and when the eating was winding down and glasses of ale had been poured out for everyone, the Thain rose, holding his glass aloft, all eyes upon him.  
  
'To the winner of the tournament!' he said, raising his glass high. 'Well shot, Ferdibrand, I do believe you to be the finest archer in the Shire.'  
  
'Hear, hear!' Tolly shouted, raising his own glass, to be echoed by the rest of the hobbits who crowded the great room.  
  
It was Ferdi's turn, and as he rose, a silence fell. He lifted his glass with a smile and a nod towards the head table, and Regi relaxed. Of course he would follow custom and toast the Thain as the founder of the tournament.  
  
But no...  
  
Though Ferdi spoke quietly, every word was clearly heard in the hush. 'To Mistress Eglantine,' he said, 'who will always be "The Took" in my eyes, no matter if she turns the title over to another.'   
  
He nodded as someone gasped. 'O aye,' he said conversationally, 'for certain Peregrin is Thain, and he's looking to be a good one, I'm happy to say.'  
  
He raised his glass again. 'But my toast is to Mistress Eglantine, who never forgot...' He raised his glass and drank to the mother of the Thain, and the Tooks joined him in the toast.  
  
Setting his glass again on the table, he turned and left the rest of the celebration to the others.  
  
***  
  
Before the feast was over, a sober-faced Took slipped up behind the Thain and bent to whisper a message. Pippin excused himself, telling Diamond to stay, and rose from the table. By now he had the Tooks well-conditioned to continue eating as he left, though they still rose out of courtesy and resumed their seats only after he had left the room. A few moments later, Eglantine was summoned from the feast.  
  
Reginard found Pippin later in the study, writing a note.  
  
'O there you are,' he said, looking up. 'I've just finished writing out instructions for my absence.'  
  
'Absence?' Reginard said. He didn't like the sound of that... Pippin had been allowed out of bed for the first time that afternoon.  
  
'Rudivacar Bolger is dead,' Pippin said. 'I am called immediately to Bridgefields, for Pimpernel's sake.'  
  
'Dead! How?' Reginard said, shocked.  
  
'A sudden illness, is all the message said,' the Thain replied. 'Evidently Nell has collapsed in her grief, and they fear both for her life and that of the unborn child.'  
  
'She is very near her time,' Regi said.  
  
Pippin nodded, '...which is why they did not attend the tournament this year,' he said. 'I must go, Reg, you can see that.' He rose from the desk. 'I've ordered the coach to be ready; my mother and I shall depart within the hour.'  
  
'Diamond's staying?'  
  
'No need for her to come,' Pippin said. 'She can keep watch over the Smials for me.' He made a wry face. 'They're more likely to listen to her than they are to me, anyhow. The Tooks should have made _her_ Thain and left me to go fishing or somewhat.'  
  
'She'd never stand for it,' Reginard said.  
  
Pippin sighed. 'You're probably right. Too bad, she'd have less time to badger me...'  
  
Reginard laughed. 'You could use more badgering, in my estimation,' he said, then sobered. 'How long do you expect to be gone?'  
  
'I hope to bring Pimpernel and her children back within a few days,' Pippin said. 'If she's too close to her time, she won't be able to travel until after the babe is born, so let's hope we can get that cake out of the oven before it burns.'  
  
There was a knock at the door, and at Pippin's invitation, Hally entered. 'You wished to see me, Sir?' he said politely.  
  
The Thain told him about Rudivacar's passing, and Hally nodded. 'We'll have to leave early on the morrow, then,' he said, 'to be in time for the burial.' He shook his head. 'We seem to be hurrying to too many burials these days.'  
  
'I've arranged to notify all the other Bolgers here for the tournament, as well,' Pippin said, 'but I had a special request to make of you.'  
  
'Yes?' Hally said, not one to waste words when one would do.  
  
'Rosemary was very close to Pimpernel before she married... and both of them married Bolgers. Would you come back to the Smials after the memorial? I think Rosemary might have some comfort to offer my sister.'  
  
Hally nodded gravely. 'I'd arranged to be gone indefinitely. My brother is caring for our animals and our garden. We'll come.'  
  
'Thank you,' the Thain said.  
  
***  
  
Ferdi drove the coach with the Thain's family, for Diamond had refused to be left behind, followed by the Bolgers' waggon. The roads were dry, making for fast travel; little rain had fallen over the summer. Indeed, the Water at Budge Ford was very low, only ankle deep as the ponies splashed across. Ferdi made a mental note to mention this to the Thain, who'd been fretting about the effect of the lack of rainfall. Ferdi only hoped the dust wasn't aggravating the Thain's condition.  
  
Rudivacar's dwelling was easy to pick out as they entered Bridgefields, for every window was draped in mourning. Ferdi pulled up before the door, set the brake, nodded to the stable lads who stepped up to take the ponies' heads, and jumped down to open the door for the Thain.  
  
Pippin was pale as he stepped out, but seemed vigorous enough, waving Ferdi's helping hand away. He turned to hand out his wife, and then lifted down his little son.  
  
Hally pulled up his waggon behind them and soon he and Rosemary and the little Bolgers were standing with the Thain and his family.  
  
Estella Brandybuck appeared in the doorway of the house, her face sober, eyes red from crying, though she bore herself with all the dignity of the Mistress of Buckland.  
  
'Pippin! Diamond! So good to see you. And Faramir! I do believe you've grown...' She greeted Hally and Rosemary kindly, as distant cousins, and invited them to partake of the hospitality of the house, '...not that it is _mine_ to give, actually, but I'm the only one free to greet arrivals at the moment.'  
  
'Is Merry here?' Pippin asked.  
  
'He's in Rohan,' Estella said.  
  
'What?' Pippin exclaimed.  
  
She laughed shakily. 'O I know,' she said, 'but the opportunity presented itself and I pushed him out the door.'   
  
'Rohan!' Diamond said, shaking her head. 'And you let him go by himself?'  
  
'I told him to bring me back many presents, and not to stay overlong,' Estella said. 'If he overstays himself, he knows I'll come looking for him...' Her tone boded ill for an errant husband.  
  
She then greeted Eglantine respectfully, urging the wife and the mother of the Thain to enter the Hall, to take refreshment after their long journey, and they soon disappeared into the Hall, escorted by hospitable Bolgers.   
  
Estella took Pippin's arm. 'O my beloved cousin, you do not know what a relief it is to see you...' She brushed back a stray tendril of hair. 'The Bolgers are at their wits' end, they haven't the faintest notion how to deal with your sister.'  
  
'And do you?' Pippin asked.  
  
A wry look crossed her face. 'I've been tempted to slap her, but I do not think that would relieve anything but my feelings,' she said honestly. 'Now come,' she said, tugging at his arm, 'before any of the other Bolgers get the same notion into their heads.'  
  
Ferdi nodded to the stable lads to take the ponies away, then stepped up to Rosemary and Hally. 'Go on in,' he said, 'you can leave the young ones with me for the nonce.' Hally nodded, and taking his wife's arm, followed Pippin and Estella into the grand dwelling.  
  
Ferdi saw to it that the young Bolgers were fed and put to bed with a story he spun himself for their enchantment, and then he took himself off for a walk about Bridgefields. He hadn't seen the place in quite awhile, for all his mother had been a Bolger herself.  
  
He was grieved at the loss of several favourite climbing trees, probably cut down by the ruffians some years back. He contemplated for some time a dry ditch, remembering a day of terror and delight when it brimmed with racing water, and the town lads introduced him to the dangerous game of ditch-jumping. At last, the long summer day disappearing into twilight, he retraced his steps, returning in time for late supper, a silent meal, at which he was the sole representative from the Great Smials.  
  
Diamond, he gathered, was setting Faramir in, while Pippin and Eglantine, Rosemary and Hally were dealing with the bereaved family. He excused himself as soon as decently possible and took himself off to check on the ponies, then sought his bed, for the burial would take place with the dawn.  
  
***  
  
The songs were slightly different, but the burial was basically the same as any in Tuckborough. Ferdi saw Pimpernel for the first time, stumbling along behind the shrouded form, supported between her mother and brother to the graveside, where she shook off their hands and stood slightly apart, her children encircling her, clinging to her skirts.  
  
The first sign of trouble that Ferdi saw was when the burial was finished, and Eglantine put a hand on her daughter's arm to urge her away from the flower-strewn mound. Pimpernel pulled her arm from her mother's gentle grasp, shaking her head, saying something in a low tone.  
  
Pippin tried then, but his sister turned on him angrily, and he stepped back, both hands raised in a placating gesture which did not placate the irate widow. Several of the children holding tightly to her skirts began to cry, and Ferdi heard her shout, 'Now look what you've done!'  
  
Diamond took Pippin's sleeve then, pulled him away, arguing in a soft but urgent tone, finally convincing him to walk back with her. Ferdi stood undecided, until Eglantine looked up to see him.  
  
'Ferdi, lad,' she called. 'Come here.'  
  
He bowed and approached cautiously, as if Pimpernel were a bow pulled too far, and he was afraid she'd snap.  
  
'Nell?' he said quietly.  
  
'Another Took! That's just fine, call another Took to deal with me!' the widow raged.  
  
'He's half Bolger,' her mother said practically, 'and since you are not looking kindly upon Tooks this day, you may have him to escort you back to the memorial.'  
  
'No!' Pimpernel sobbed, all of the children weeping now.  
  
'Come lass,' Ferdi said, as he might have soothed a fractious mare. 'Come along now. Is this how you would honour his love for you?'  
  
'What do you know of that?' she snapped.  
  
'I know what I saw, when last I saw the two of you,' he answered in the same soothing tone. 'He loved you more than his own life. Would you cast dirt upon that, now, bury that love with him? What would he say, seeing you like this?'  
  
The mild chiding had an effect; Pimpernel drew herself up with a regal nod, saying, 'Come, children, it is time to honour your father.' Disdaining the hand Ferdi held out to her, she swept away, little ones in her wake.  
  
Eglantine gazed after her daughter sorrowfully. 'This is not the end of it,' she said softly. Then, breaking free from her thoughts, she said, 'My thanks, Ferdi. You've been of great assistance.' He began to bow, and she put out a hand. 'No, no, please don't.'  
  
At his questioning look, she said, 'I know I may be The Took to you, but at the moment I am just a tired old lady. Would you walk me back, please?'  
  
With great courtesy, he offered his arm; with equal courtesy she took it, and together they slowly made their way back to the grand house for the memorial and feast.


	43. Bereavement

Note to Readers:   
  
Thanks for the comments!   
  
Xena, it was sad that Rudivacar died, but how else could Nell end up married to Ferdi? (as she does... see "Where the Merlin Cries"). Ferdi doesn't always do what is expected, but he *does* do what he thinks is right.  
  
PansyChubb, it was custom for the widow/widower to go to stay with her/his own family during the time of mourning, as it was thought they would take comfort from being surrounded by brothers/sisters/parents during such a difficult time. As a matter of fact, it would have been custom for a widow (in an earlier age, in real-life history) to move back under the protection of her parents, or if her parents were deceased, then under the protection of a brother, at least until she married again.  
  
As to the cruelty of the practical jokes, especially in regards to Ferdinand's teeth... having grown up in a family where practical jokes were rampant, I must give my personal opinion... I hate them. I believe they are seldom funny to the one they are played on, even though they may be hilariously funny to the jokester (and perhaps others not affected). There is often an element of hostility in a practical joke, as well. Suffice it to say, I am glad that Pippin grows out of the habit as he matures in my stories.  
  
I have written well ahead in "Merlin" so that you ought to be able to enjoy daily updates in that story, as long as everything goes well. Please keep reviewing, it keeps my spirits up (nearly killed off a major OC last week in a fit of depression, how horrid!) and makes the Muse more tractable. I am a little stuck in "Flames", so am not sure when the next update will come. In a day or two, hopefully, as soon as I get past the sticking place. It is a pain to have future chapters already written and ready to go, yet the very-next chapter after this one is only half-done.  
  
I have added a new chapter to "Merlin" as well, in case you are following that story.  
  
***  
  
**43. Bereavement**  
  
The next day, Odovacar and Fredegar Bolger stood with the Thain as they watched servants packing the coach.  
  
'We shall close up the house, of course, until Rudi's eldest is of age,' Odo said quietly. 'He inherits, you know, and is responsible for looking after his brothers and sisters, as well as his mother.'  
  
'Could Nell come back here, with her children, to live?' Pippin asked slowly. 'If that were her choice...'  
  
Odo looked thoughtful. 'It would not be the custom,' he said. 'Usually the widow is better off, surrounded by family.' He nodded slowly. 'But of course, the children _are_ Bolgers, and the house does belong to her oldest son. They could move back to Bridgefields, once the proper period of mourning has been observed.'  
  
Rosemary had arranged for Pimpernel's little Bolgers to ride in the waggon with her own little Bolgers, for their mother was putting up considerable resistance to returning to Tookland.  
  
Finally, after all was loaded and ready, Rosemary and Diamond came out, bearing Pimpernel between them, encouraging her to put one foot in front of the other.  
  
'Sleeping draught?' Pippin said in shocked disapproval.  
  
His mother shot him a quelling look. 'It was that or tie her hand and foot,' she answered. 'She's not in her right mind, and we've got to get her back to Tuckborough.'  
  
'Why not let her stay...' Pippin muttered.  
  
'She's _my daughter_,' Eglantine snapped. 'I have a responsibility to care for her, and from what the Bolgers said, after Rudi's death she's taken precious little care of herself and the babe.'  
  
'No,' Pimpernel moaned. 'No, I don't want...'  
  
Pippin's face was white and strained, his jaw was set, but he took his sister and started to lift her into the coach, only to stagger. Ferdi jumped to his side to help, and between them they settled her on the cushions.  
  
Pippin ducked out of the coach again, spinning to walk away a few steps, fists clenched, breathing hard. Odo walked slowly up to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. 'When she is well again, we will welcome her back,' he said quietly. The Thain nodded without speaking, a sharp jerk of his chin, and the elderly Bolger turned away with a sad shake of his own head.  
  
He stepped up into the coach, to lay a gentle hand upon Pimpernel's curls. 'Be well, lass,' he said softly. 'Go with grace. Take care of yourself and the wee lamb, and we'll hope to welcome you home again soon.'  
  
'Home,' Pimpernel moaned. 'Please...'  
  
Old Odo blinked back tears and stepped down. 'I know you'll take care of her,' he said to Eglantine.  
  
She nodded, accepted his bow, and allowed him to help her up into the coach. Diamond entered the coach slowly, settling on the other side of Pimpernel, but when Ferdi spoke to Pippin, the Thain stood unmoving.  
  
'Sir, we're ready for you.' He wondered if this was a waking nightmare for his cousin; did Pip envision his own return to Tookland this way, in the tender clutches of his relatives, with no way of escape?  
  
'Cousin?' he said, then finally, 'Pip?' He reached out a tentative hand but did not quite touch the stiffened shoulder.  
  
'All right,' the Thain said abruptly, turning to look at Ferdi, his face bleak. 'I'll ride on the box with you, if I may.'  
  
'Of course,' Ferdi said, and steadied him as he climbed to the top. Ferdi followed with his usual agility, picked up the reins, clucked to the ponies, and turned the coach out of the yard as the Bolgers watched silently.  
  
***  
  
Ferdi saw nothing of Pimpernel after their return to the Smials. He heard when she was delivered of a fine son, almost coincidentally. It was Faramir who told him, when the lad came to see him as he sat in the Thain's study, drawing a map with careful precision.  
  
'What's that?' the little voice entered into his concentration. Ferdi finished the line he was drawing, took a deep breath, and put down the pen.  
  
'Map,' he said succintly, comparing what he saw on paper to what he saw in his head.  
  
'I see that,' Faramir said solemnly. He pointed with a small finger, carefully not touching the surface with its still-glistening ink. 'That's Tuckborough, and there's the stream, and that... that's the Smials,' he said, his voice breathy with wonder. 'Where we are,' he added.  
  
Ferdi took the little hand in his own, moved the finger to point to a cross-hatched area. 'That's winter barley,' he said, 'already harvested.' He moved the finger to an area with a different pattern. 'And that is winter wheat, nearly ready, as ready as it'll ever get, what with the dry summer we've had, and that,' he said, moving the finger again, 'is the spring barley, and it's about in the same shape as the winter wheat.'  
  
'And this?' the lad asked, his face serious and intent.  
  
'Hay,' Ferdi said. 'That'll be cut later. A bit of soft rain wouldn't do any harm. A hard rain, now, or hail...'  
  
'Ah,' Farry said, and Ferdi had the feeling that this tiny lad, just turned five, had grasped the entire conversation, sucked it in like a robin with a worm, and was hungry for more in the bargain.  
  
The lad straightened now, and Ferdi released his hand, confident the small fingers would not touch and smear the page.  
  
'Pimpernel had her babe,' Faramir said suddenly.  
  
'O?' Ferdi asked.  
  
'A fine boy,' the lad nodded. 'Got good lungs on him.'  
  
Ferdi repressed a chuckle. He could hear Healer Woodruff in the boy's tone and phrasing. He wondered if the lad even knew what lungs were.  
  
'Did you hear him?'  
  
'O aye,' Faramir said. 'I heard the first song he ever sang.'  
  
'How's his mum?' Ferdi asked casually.  
  
Faramir did not answer, and Ferdi felt a tightness in his gut. 'Farry?' he asked softly.  
  
'She doesn't want him,' Faramir said, and met Ferdi's eyes, wonder and hurt in his own. 'She said...' He flushed. 'I wasn't s'posed to listen, I only paused by the door to hear the babe sing, but it sounded more like a cry, if you were to ask me.' He looked away.  
  
'What did she say?' Ferdi pressed.  
  
'She said to take him away, that now they could let her alone, let her go, leave her be.' He raised troubled eyes again to Ferdi.  
  
'And then what?' Ferdi asked. He could hardly believe it, here he was pumping a tot for gossip.  
  
'Gram _made_ her feed him, said they wouldn't let her be until she did.'  
  
'And...?' Ferdi asked.  
  
'And she fed him, and _then_ she said to take him away, and they did, and then...' this last bit was evidently the hardest. The lad swallowed hard, dropping his voice to a whisper. 'And then I heard Gram crying.' He shook his head. 'Gram never cries.'  
  
They were silent together, for a time, then Faramir said, 'But why is she so upset?'  
  
'Her husband died, you know.'  
  
'Uncle Rudi,' Faramir said.  
  
'Yes,' Ferdibrand answered.  
  
'But... he's in that place, beyond those Seas, and all he ever lost is given back to him now. Why is she sad?'  
  
'Because, lad,' Ferdi said gently, 'because he's lost to her, now, and she must live on without him.'  
  
'But when she goes over those Seas, he'll be given back?' Faramir asked. 'Is that why she wants to go now?'  
  
'Yes, lad, but it's not her time yet,' Ferdi answered. 'She still has loved ones here who need her.'  
  
'But she needed him,' Farry said desperately, his little fists clenching unconsciously. 'And I need my da...'  
  
'O Farry,' Ferdibrand said, gathering the lad into a hug. 'I do not know all the answers, but you can count on me to be there, even if it is only to wonder in silence together.' The little arms tightened around him. As soon as they dropped away, Ferdi released the lad.  
  
Faramir surreptitiously wiped his eyes with his sleeve, then said, 'I was almost forgetting why I came.'  
  
'O? Why was that?' Ferdi asked casually.  
  
'It's my birthday. Will you come to the feast?' Faramir said.  
  
'I would be honoured,' Ferdi said gravely.  
  
'Good,' the lad nodded. He dug into his pocket. 'Here,' he said. 'It's a birthday present.'  
  
Ferdi opened the paper to find short lengths of bright ribbon.  
  
'They're for Penny and you,' Faramir said. 'She took second in the Tookland pony races this year, but I think if you braided her mane with bright ribbons she'd be so proud she'd run even faster. Mum let me pick them up after the dressmaker was finished.'  
  
'Will you come cheer for her next year?' Ferdi asked, closing his hand about the shining gift.  
  
'I will,' Farry said. 'That's a promise.'  
  
'She'll win for sure, then,' Ferdi said with a smile.  
  
***  
  
He heard when Pimpernel was allowed out of bed, that she was never left alone, and that she continued to feed the babe, under protest, when he was brought to her. It all seemed un-hobbity to Ferdibrand, but then he'd never paid much heed to babes before.  
  
He never saw Pimpernel or the little Bolgers in the great room, and assumed that they took their meals in the Thain's quarters, perhaps, until Rosmary dropped a chance comment.  
  
'O yes, they take their meals in the second parlour,' she said. 'There's quite a nice little table in there, just right for Nell and the children and a minder or two.'  
  
'How goes the minding, Rosie?' he asked.  
  
She sighed. 'It's sad,' she said. 'I was a bit strained after little Buckthorn was born, but the midwife said all I needed was extra cossetting and feeding up, and she was wise enough--I was right as rain in a few weeks' time.'  
  
'It hasn't been a few weeks yet,' Ferdi said.  
  
'I know, but she won't even look at the babe,' Rosemary said. 'He's a little miracle, got all his fingers and toes and... O you should see his eyelashes, and the tiny curls atop his head and feet...' She sighed.  
  
'So when am I to greet my new niece or nephew?' Ferdi teased gently.  
  
'Go on with you,' Rosemary said in annoyance. 'There's none of that on the way.'  
  
'I wager there will be soon,' Ferdi said with a grin, and she punched him on the arm in her irritation.  
  
'Ow,' he said, 'leave off or I'll haul you before the Thain and have him put you on water rations.'  
  
'I'd like to see you try,' she said, her eyes flashing, then subsided. 'O all right,' she said, 'I was getting all weepy-eyed. But it breaks my heart to see her, Ferdi, our Nell who used to dance through the days.'  
  
'She'll dance again,' Ferdi said. 'She's just forgotten how, is all.'  
  
'She doesn't care,' Rosemary contradicted.  
  
'Give her time,' Ferdi said. 'Takes time to heal. Believe you me, I know something about it.'  
  
After that, when he rode out before the dawn, he turned Penny's head to where the wildflowers rioted in profusion upon the hillsides, and thus each morning, a freshly-picked bouquet appeared upon the little table in the second parlour.  
  



	44. Injustice

Notes to Readers:   
  
Thanks for the comments!   
  
Dana, loverly reviews, abso-bloomin-lutely (yes, still humming that song). I love it when you *shiver*. And I didn't know the Professor said that, about hobbits not marrying again... but of course, Ferdi and Nell were meant for each other, they were just thrown off for awhile by the Thain's machinations...  
  
Bookworm, if you're gone you might not read this for a month, but feel free to review, even if the story is over and done with. I will still get the reviews, and it will be like a walk down memory lane. (Besides which, reviews make the Muse tractable.)  
  
Xena, Ferdi will fight enemies, but not hobbits. As far as Pimpernel goes, have you ever heard of Post-Partum Depression? It can get really, really bad, and hers is complicated by grief. It is not that she wouldn't want her baby, were she in her right mind... and of course, that's what her family is hoping for, hoping to get her through this and back on an even keel again.  
  
Back on track, have a new chapter written, in addition to this one, and more in the pipeline. Expect an update in this story every other day unless otherwise informed.  
  
A new chapter to "Merlin" will be added in between updates to "Flames", in case you are following that story.  
  
***  
  
**44. (In)justice**  
  
'Would you care for more tea, Ferdibrand?' Diamond said with a smile.  
  
'Thank you, Mistress,' he said politely, extending his cup. Not that he wanted more tea, mind, but it was the mannerly thing to say.  
  
'Take a bite, Nell,' the Thain said to his sister. 'Eat, now. It won't do you any good sitting on your plate.'  
  
'That's a fine jest, coming from you,' Pimpernel said, but she lifted a tea sandwich to her mouth, bit, and chewed without enthusiasm.  
  
Ferdi had noticed that Pippin had eaten more than twice his usual amount, probably in an effort to spur his sister to eat. Every meal was a struggle, Rosemary had told him, and with Pimpernel nursing the babe, albeit reluctantly, they had to get as much good, wholesome food into her as possible.  
  
Pimpernel picked up another dainty sandwich, bit into it, and dissolved into tears.  
  
'What is it, love?' Rosemary said, putting her arm around the weeping hobbit mum.  
  
'Cucumber sandwiches were Rudi's favourite,' she said. 'I...'  
  
'I know,' Rosemary soothed, but Pimpernel turned on her.  
  
'How could you know?' she demanded. 'You've still got your husband. You've still got your home.'  
  
'Nell, you have a home as well,' Pippin began.  
  
'Here in the Smials, you mean,' she retorted bitterly.  
  
'No, Sister... well, yes, there will always be a welcome for you here, but you are not a prisoner. As soon as you are well, you may return to Bridgefields.'  
  
'And who determines when I am well? You?' she said nastily.  
  
Diamond put a hand on Pippin's arm, and, lips tight, he turned to add a few more sandwiches to his plate.  
  
'I know it was a great shock to you, Rudi's death coming so suddenly,' she said to Pimpernel. _And we are making allowances..._ she did not say.  
  
'At least that way he did not suffer long,' Ferdi said.  
  
Pimpernel rounded on him. 'And what do you know about it?' she hissed furiously.  
  
'I... the talk was...' he said in confusion.  
  
She measured him with a disdainful eye. 'And you listen to the talk? I should have known... the Tooks live and die for gossip.'  
  
'May I warm up your tea, Ferdi?' Diamond broke in, and though he thought he might float away, he held out his cup to the wife of the Thain with a thankful look.  
  
***  
  
After tea, Ferdi found Faramir and Robin Bolger waiting in their usual meeting spot, fishing poles ready, two other little hobbits with them.  
  
'Odovar?' he guessed. '...and Fredevar?'  
  
'That's right!' Faramir said with a grin. 'My cousins. Though they're Bolgers, they're still a good sort.'  
  
Odovar tackled Faramir, and the two rolled in the dust until they had sorted things out for the nonce.  
  
'Rudivar wanted to come fishing, too,' Freddy said, 'but Mum couldn't spare him.'  
  
'Won't let him out of her sight,' Odo muttered. 'Won't let any of us out of her sight, but Uncle Pip said he needed us to run an errand for him, and so here we are.'  
  
'Ummm. "Thain Peregrin",' Freddy corrected his brother, surreptitiously pointing a finger at Ferdibrand.  
  
Ferdi laughed. 'That's all right,' he said. 'I'm allowed to call him "Pip" as well.' The lads relaxed. They wouldn't have to be so formal as they might if Ferdi were not one of the Tooks of the Great Smials, or if he were a mere servant.  
  
They walked to the stream, talking and laughing. The boys had a million questions, and Ferdi enjoyed answering each one, though sometimes he would not speak immediately, taking time to consider, turning a question over in his mind several times before fitting an answer to it. The lads were not impatient with this treatment, of course, but honoured that this important hobbit, best archer in Tookland and head of the Thain's escort, thought their questions warranted serious consideration.  
  
It was a pleasant afternoon, though they'd caught no fish by the time they wandered back. Ferdi left them with the promise that they would fish again on the morrow.  
  
...but on the morrow, only Faramir and Robin awaited him. At his questioning look, Robin dug in the dirt with his toe. 'They couldn't come,' he said reluctantly.  
  
'Some Ents with wings upset Auntie Nell,' Faramir said helpfully. Robin tried to shush him but it was too late.  
  
'Flying Ents?' Ferdi asked, bemused. He wondered what the lad had overheard this time.  
  
'She was lecturing Odo and Freddy, and she kept talking about the bad in-flew-Ents,' Faramir said, a puzzled look on his face.  
  
'Farry!' Robin said, his face fierce, and the younger hobbit subsided, confused, but realising that he was not supposed to be repeating that conversation.  
  
'I see,' Ferdi said, forcing a smile, but his Bolger nephew was not fooled. He knew it was not something to discuss with Uncle Ferdi, but before breakfast the next morning, when he was able to get her alone for a moment, he had a serious talk with his mother about cousin Nell. He knew she'd be breakfasting with Nell this morning, after all, and he was sure she would know what to do.  
  
The next morning at breakfast, Rosemary confronted Pimpernel.  
  
'I understand you have forbidden the lads from going with Ferdibrand,' she said as she poured their tea.  
  
'Yes,' Nell answered calmly, taking the top off little Nutmeg's boiled egg. 'Now you eat that up, love,' she said.  
  
'And why would that be?' Rosemary continued.  
  
'Why,' Nell answered, astonished, 'he was under the ban for so long, he cannot be a good influence on the children.'  
  
At Rosemary's shocked look, her face softened. 'I am sorry, Rose, I know he's your brother and you love him, no matter what he's done, but...'  
  
'No matter what he's done...' Rosemary repeated faintly. 'That's just it. He did _nothing_, Nell. He was always upright and honourable, always as straight in his path as one of the arrows he fletches... He was put under the ban _unjustly_, by _your father_, for something _your brother_ did!' She took hold of herself, for she was breathing hard and fighting tears.  
  
It did not help that Ferdi's daily bouquet sat in the centre of the breakfast table, testimony to his steadfast nature.  
  
She must not cry in front of the children; they had little enough stability in their lives at the moment, and she was supposed to be part of that prop. Rudi, Odo and Freddy were staring down at the tabletop as if they'd be able to see through it to the floor if they just looked hard enough. She took a deep breath and smiled. 'Rudi,' she said brightly. 'Would you care for light bread or the wholemeal this morning?'  
  
Pimpernel sat staring into her teacup while Rosemary saw to the children's breakfast. She ate mechanically the food that Rosemary set before her, and nursed the babe that Heather Took brought a little later, without comment.  
  
***  
  
Hally joined Ferdi, awaiting the Thain's call, sitting in the morning sun in front of the stables.  
  
'How goes it?' he asked, squatting down to see the fingers busy at their work, braiding a new set of reins for Penny's bridle.  
  
Ferdi did not answer for a long time, longer than such a question needed, anyhow.  
  
'What, Ferdi?' he asked, eventually.  
  
Ferdi kept his eyes on his work. Finally he said, slowly, 'Do you think I am a bad influence on your children?'  
  
Dumbfounded, Hally stared at his brother-in-love.  
  
Ferdi looked up. 'Do you?' he repeated.  
  
Hally closed his mouth. Ferdi was serious. 'I...' he said.  
  
Ferdi sighed, his eyes going back to his braiding. 'You can tell me the truth, won't hurt my feelings any.'  
  
Hally found his voice. 'Wherever did you get that idea?' he asked. 'It isn't that warm, yet, or I'd say you'd got too much sun!'  
  
Ferdi smiled grimly, but didn't look up. 'I hear it's the talk of the Tooks,' he said.  
  
Hally huffed. 'If you were to guide your life by talk, 'twould be like walking down a dark path, shining the lantern _behind_. I thought you had more sense than that.'  
  
To Hally's amazement the busy fingers stilled. He had never seen Ferdi in complete repose before, barring unconsciousness... some part of his body was always in motion.  
  
'Ferdi?' he asked, his disquiet growing.  
  
'Funny,' Ferdibrand murmured. 'Pimpernel said nearly the same thing to me at tea yesterday.' He looked up again at last. 'D'you think I'm a liability to Pip? He has to take me on, by tradition, for having won the tournament, but perhaps he'd be better satisfied if I left the Smials, moved to Woody End.'  
  
Hally stared at him, wordless for the second time in as many minutes. He and Rosemary had repeatedly urged Ferdi to leave Tuckborough, move in with them, but not this way...  
  
'Ferdi,' he said at last, 'I don't know what kind of talk you've been listening to, but...' he took several deep breaths, 'I can tell you that if I hear any such talk, the Thain's going to have to banish me for assault with intent to do harm,' he said grimly.  
  
He put a hand on Ferdi's arm. 'Ferdi,' he said urgently, 'you talk to the Thain. From what I've seen, he'll give you a straight answer, as to whether you're a liability or not.'  
  
Ferdi looked at the ground and did not answer. Hally felt the anger building again--and he was a Bolger, not a Took, to fly off the handle. His was the slow, burning anger of long patience, but he was rapidly approaching the boil.  
  
'Come along,' he said now, sharply, with a jerk at Ferdi's arm that nearly overbalanced him. It didn't matter; he rose to his feet and reached down to grab Ferdi by the shoulder. 'We're going to see the Thain this very moment.'  
  
'We cannot interrupt him at business.'  
  
'O yes, we can,' Hally said grimly. _This_ is business.' He ignored Ferdi's obvious discomfort, hauling him to his feet. 'Do I have to take you by the ear, like one of my sons?' he said.  
  
'No, I'll come along quietly,' Ferdi said.  
  
Pippin looked up in surprise at the knock on the study door; he was deep in discussion with several farmers as to the order of harvest. 'Enter,' he called, and the door opened to show Hally and Ferdi.  
  
'We can come back later,' Ferdi said hastily, seeing the farmers.  
  
'O no we cannot,' Hally said grimly. To the Thain, he said, 'We need to talk.'  
  
Pippin exchanged a glance with Reginard, who shook his head slightly. He had no idea what this was about.  
  
The Thain rose from his desk. 'If you will excuse me, gentlehobbits,' he said. He received nods and murmurs in reply, and he said, 'My thanks. Regi, would you have tea served whilst you're waiting?'  
  
The steward nodded, and Pippin left the study. 'We'll go to the second parlour,' he said. 'It ought to be empty, this time of day.'  
  
Ferdi's flowers still graced the table, bright and cheerful, though by teatime they would have started to wilt and so be cleared away with the tea things.  
  
Ferdi and Hally waited until the Thain was seated, then took the chairs he indicated.  
  
'Now, what is this all about?' he asked.  
  
Ferdi looked at the ground while Hally explained; he was unable to meet anyone's eyes or even to say a word. How many of the Tooks thought that there had been some truth behind the rumour, some reason behind the ban? _No smoke without fire..._ was a popular saying.  
  
'Talk amongst the Tooks?' Pippin said in outrage. 'Not that I've heard. What sort of nonsense is this?'  
  
'I was under the ban, Pip,' Ferdi said at last. 'Some people might construe it that way.'  
  
'Not anyone with any sense,' Pippin retorted. Hally watched, fascinated, the jumping of a muscle in the Thain's jaw. He'd heard of the Thain's icy anger, but this was the first he'd seen of it.  
  
Pippin took a deep breath, mastering himself, rose from his chair, and went to Ferdi. Putting a hand on his cousin's shoulder, he said, 'Ferdi, I do not know who might put such a rumour about, but you can be sure I will find out and deal with the party. You have grounds for a charge of false accusation, you know.'  
  
'No,' Ferdi said. 'Just to have my name cleared will be enough.'  
  
'I will get to the bottom of this, but it would help if you told me where to start.'  
  
Ferdi was reluctant to answer, but he could not evade the Thain's intense gaze. Finally, he answered low, 'It was your son who told me.'  
  
Pippin stepped back, aghast. 'My son?' he said, then his face became still and very serious. 'I will get to the bottom of this,' he repeated. 'Ferdi, why don't you take the rest of the day off? Hally, take him shooting, or go for a long ride, or somewhat. I will see you back just before tea.'  
  
Later that day, at teatime, alone with her little family in the second parlour, Pimpernel looked at the wilting flowers. She tenderly rearranged the stems so that the stronger plants would prop the weaker. Then, she turned to the boys with a bright smile. 'So,' she said. 'Are you going fishing with your cousin Ferdi this day?'


	45. Post

Notes to Readers:   
  
Thanks for the comments!   
  
Awww, PansyChub, Nell doesn't really have a grudge against Ferdi, she's not in her right mind you know, and as far as she's concerned there's a grand conspiracy of Tooks to tear her away from her home with the Bolgers. Of course, the Bolgers are not ruthless enough to give her the care she needs, which is why they turned her over to the Tooks (much more ruthless bunch that they are).  
  
Hai, I'm sure Pippin was very gentle with his son; Farry is, after all, only five and was repeating something he didn't understand. Bet he gets a lesson in Took-talk (aka gossip) and how to hold his tongue!  
  
Xena, you were exactly right, that is what happened. Pippin talked to Faramir, to get the story "from the pony's mouth" and then confronted Pimpernel. He found out that she'd made an assumption; remember, she hadn't lived at the Smials in years, and in visits to her old home, she'd have known Ferdi was under the ban but not necessarily why. So Pippin nipped that rumour in the bud.  
  
FantasyFan, I left the scenes of Pippin talking with Faramir and then Pimpernel to the reader's imagination. Hope you don't mind too much... Pimpernel's turnaround is not all that mysterious; she was already starting to recover, if you notice how natural she was at breakfast until Rosemary pulled her up short. Certainly she'd be upset after Rosemary's comments, and it must have been a great relief to her after Pippin straightened everything out and she was able to apologise to Ferdibrand. (All of which you will see inferred, rather than stated directly, at this point... if I wrote everything that happened this story would be 96 chapters like "Rope"! There's still lots of story to cover, after chapter 50! --so who knows how many chapters will result?)  
  
Dana, if you read this, consider it a "get well soon" card for your mouse. I think I know the culprit. Who is famous for going after mousies, after all?  
  
Back on track, have written to chapter 50, and more in the pipeline. Expect an update in this story every other day unless otherwise informed. I do have a terrible dilemma. After this chapter, the angst gets pretty heavy for awhile... and the same thing is happening over in "Merlin". You will think I have it in for poor Ferdibrand, but really, it is a coincidence that both stories reach the height of angst at the same time. I should have planned out the posting somehow to have a "good" chapter in one story to balance a "bad" chapter in another. Apologies. Angst warning: after this chapter, there are breakers ahead.  
  
A new chapter to "Merlin" will be added in between updates to "Flames", in case you are following that story.  
  
***  
  
**45. Post**  
  
'Post for you, Ferdi!' Hilly sang out as he approached, his hands full of letters.  
  
'For me?' Ferdi asked, bemused. No one ever wrote to him except Rosemary, and she was here in the Smials, though Hally had been making noises lately about getting back to Woody End one of these days.  
  
'For you,' Hilly said, taking the top letter off the stack, making a show of sniffing it, and tossing it to him. 'Doesn't smell like a lass, so I guess you haven't been keeping secrets...'  
  
'Wouldn't you like to know?' Ferdi retorted, pulling out his knife to neatly slit the missive open, unfolding it to read the contents. Hilly loitered, plainly curious, as Ferdi guffawed, then the latter looked up and said, 'On your way, laddie. It's not my news to tell.'  
  
Hilly nodded, looking dissatisfied, but realising he'd get no gossip from Ferdi this day. Mayhap on the evening, if he bought him a mug at the Duck... Ah, well, he had other letters to deliver.  
  
Later that day, Ferdi sought out Reginard. 'Did you get a letter from Ev'ard this day?' he asked.  
  
'All the way from Buckland,' Regi answered. 'Seems as if my baby brother has found love in an unlikely place.'  
  
'I thought nothing good ever came out of Buckland,' Ferdi grinned, 'but it seems as if Ev'ard's changed his tune.'  
  
'He has,' Regi said. 'Asked me to stand up for him at harvest time. Seems there's going to be a wedding or somewhat.'  
  
'That might be a bit difficult,' Ferdi said, scratching his chin. 'Didn't you tell me you were planning a wedding about that time?'  
  
'Haven't actually asked the lass, or her father, for that matter, but yes, that's what I was thinking. After the harvest's in, while the weather is still fine but the work is done, that's a fine time for a wedding.'  
  
'And you were going to ask Ev'ard to stand up with you,' Ferdi said. 'What'll you do now? Ask Pip?'  
  
Reginard looked surprised. As a matter of fact, he'd been about to ask Ferdibrand, but... 'Now that's a fine idea, and no mistake,' he said slowly. 'Ferdi, sometimes I do think you have a brain after all.'  
  
'Nice to hear,' Ferdibrand said dryly. 'I suppose Ev'ard will have to ask one of the other engineers, or perhaps a Bucklander, to stand up with him.'  
  
'And when will you be asking someone to stand with you?' Regi asked.  
  
Ferdi laughed. 'Hadn't you heard? I'm to be an old bachelor uncle, the one who teaches the young'uns to shoot and fish and tells fine tales of a winter's eve.'  
  
'I find that hard to believe, you, the head of the Thain's escort? The lasses swoon when they watch you shoot at the tournament...'  
  
'Who'd have me, Reg? I'm the one burned down the old Thain's stables...'  
  
'_Nearly_ burned down the stables, you mean,' Regi corrected.  
  
'O aye, it's been thrown in my face for so long I'd nearly forgotten the truth,' Ferdi said with a laugh, but the steward shook his head.  
  
'Don't, Ferdi,' he said, only to hear the other chuckle again.  
  
'Look at you, Reg, about to marry the lass you fancy, and so happy that you want everyone around you to be happy too. I _am_ happy for you, old lad!' He looked at the angle of the sun. 'But I am about to be late for a very important appointment to go fishing with some friends of mine, so I will leave you on that note. Better write Ev'ard right away, give him time to ask one of those Bucklanders before he returns. I do believe the engineers are supposed to be coming back next week with that magic black powder of theirs.' With a jaunty whistle, Ferdi walked off.  
  
***  
  
The engineers returned from Buckland, with a waggon full of barrels which the Thain locked up with Tookland's gold, in the deepest hole they had, near the Smials, but not too near.  
  
Ferdi was on hand, escorting the Thain, of course, when they demonstrated the properties of the new substance, well, not new, not exactly, new to hobbits more like. Gandalf had given the King the secret of the powder before passing over the Sea, that fireworks should not disappear from Middle-earth with him. The King had thought that the peaceable hobbits could be trusted with the secret, and that the stuff might come in handy in their excavations. Though dwarves were diggers as well as hobbits, they were a shade too aggressive to be given the powder, the King had decided, and they might scorn its use in any event, considering the care they took plying their hammers in the crystal caves.  
  
The engineers demonstrated how the stuff burned with a quick hot flame in the open air, giving off large amounts of white smoke.  
  
The Thain rubbed his chin thoughtfully. 'I suppose you could use it for a signal of some sort,' he said, 'though in these peaceful times it is hard to imagine just how you'd put it to use.'  
  
Caged, put it in a confined space, it exploded violently. The engineers dug holes in a rocky hillside in a carefully calculated pattern, inserted tubes of the powder, ran fuses of oiled candlewicking to the tubes, set the fuses alight. From a safe vantage point, the Thain and his escort watched the powder blow the beginning of a tunnel in the hillside.  
  
'Just scrape out the broken rocks and dirt, and keep digging, or if it is too rocky, drill holes in the wall where you want the tunnel to go and blast it again,' Aldebrand said in satisfaction. 'We'll be able to build a new smials in no time at all, compared to the old way of doing things.'  
  
That evening over mugs at the Duck, Everard cleared his throat. 'Ferdi,' he said.  
  
'You have my ear,' Ferdi answered equably, sipping at his mug.  
  
'I was wondering...' Everard said, and stopped.  
  
'Well, spit it out, lad, no need to stand on ceremony with me,' Ferdi said encouragingly.  
  
'I wanted to ask you...' Everard paused, then added in a rush, 'if you'd stand up with me.'  
  
Ferdi looked at him, astonished. 'Are you talking to me?' he asked.  
  
A trace of the old irritation flashed across Everard's face. 'Well I don't see anyone else sitting at the table,' he said, annoyed, 'and I certainly wasn't talking to the serving lass.'  
  
'I... I'd be honoured,' Ferdi said slowly.  
  
Everard jerked his chin in a nod. 'Good,' he said sharply. 'Now drink up. I'm going to buy you a mug.' Ferdi complied, and taking their mugs, Everard got up from the table, muttering to himself.  
  
'Don't tell me you nearly turned him down,' Tolly said, sitting down with him.  
  
'How'd you know he asked?' Ferdi said.  
  
'He worried that you'd say no,' Tolly answered. 'He thinks you're the finest hobbit in the Smials, next to his brother, and he was that shy about asking.'  
  
'Ev'ard, _shy_?' Ferdi said, thunderstruck.  
  
'Aye,' Tolly whispered. 'And don't you go telling him I said so, or I'll put a cockleburr under your saddle pad.'


	46. Flames

Notes to Readers:   
  
Thanks for the comments!   
  
Those who have read "FireStorm" and "Striking Sparks" will notice some material in common; a fair amount was lifted from those stories and rewritten from Ferdi's viewpoint. This is in order to make this story stand-alone. I am trying not to make the assumption that a reader will automatically be familiar with the facts of the fire.  
  
Xena, glad to hear Ev'ard is growing on you. Yes, hard to imagine, he really is shy, but shyness is not well-looked-upon by Tooks, so he has to cover it up by affecting irritability. If you can be irritable enough, most of the time, people will tend to leave you alone.  
  
PansyChubb, what an excellent observation. Being invisible for so long *would* have an impact on one's ability to communicate. I'd bet Ferdi's out of the habit of complaining about his troubles, seeing as there were no listening ears for ever so long.  
  
Dana, I hope your mouse gets better soon, too. In our house, when the mouse cord developed a slice, we blamed it on a certain 3yo with scissors. But you don't have one of those running about, do you?  
  
Back on track, have written to chapter 50, and more in the pipeline. Expect an update in this story every other day unless otherwise informed. I do have a terrible dilemma. After this chapter, the angst gets pretty heavy for awhile... and the same thing is happening over in "Merlin". You will think I have it in for hobbits, but really, it is a coincidence that both stories reach the height of angst at the same time. I should have planned out the posting somehow to have a "good" chapter in one story to balance a "bad" chapter in another. Apologies. Angst warning, there are breakers ahead for the foreseeable future.  
  
A new chapter to "Merlin" will be added in between updates to "Flames", in case you are following that story.  
  
***  
  
**46. Flames**  
  
Ferdi was in the Thain's study, listening to Everard answer Pippin's questions about the black powder, when two lads burst through the door without knocking.   
  
Before any could reprimand them, they both burst out with "Fire!"  
  
The Thain was on his feet in an instant. 'Where?' he snapped. From the lads' panic it must be bad.  
  
'Tookbank Farm,' the farm lad gasped. 'In the bottomland just by Tookbank. My da and my brothers are fighting it but 'tis too big and spreading fast. We've roused the hobbits of Tookbank but we need more.'  
  
'Which way is the wind blowing?' the Thain demanded sharply.  
  
The farm lad took a deep breath. 'Towards Tookburough,' he said, dread in his eyes. 'I rode as fast as the pony would go... Da said if the afternoon winds kick up it'll roar right over the hills to the Smials.' The Great Smials itself would not be much affected, but the wood and stone structures of Tookburough with their roofs of thatch would be devastated, hundreds of hobbits left homeless.  
  
'How many farmsteads between Tookbank and here?' Pippin asked.  
  
'Three,' the Steward answered.  
  
'The farmers are out plowing firebreaks around their buildings,' the lad said, 'but the fire will come across the bottoms; it was crowning in the treetops when I left, and sparks were blowing into the fields.'  
  
'Everard?' the Thain said. Though the steward's brother was now an engineer, no longer a farmer, he knew the farms around Tookland like the fur on his feet.  
  
'It'll come across the fields and the bottoms; we'll have to have a wide line to stop it. Plowing firebreaks should go quickly enough, but in the trees... clearing underbrush takes time...'  
  
'We don't have time,' Reginard said. 'If the winds kick up...'  
  
'They will, in a matter of hours,' the Thain said.  
  
'Black powder,' Everard broke in. The others looked at him, dumbfounded. 'It burns fast and hot,' he said, his words spilling out faster in his excitement. 'We can use it to set backfires, burn out the brush in the bottoms before the fire gets here, fell the trees in the firebreak, away from the fire, rake the ground bare. Deny it the fuel and you'll stop it.'  
  
The Thain and Steward went to the map on the wall, though they knew the country intimately. 'Where?' Pippin said.  
  
Everard moved to his side. 'If it's too close to the head of the fire, flames will jump the break before it's finished,' he said.  
  
'Where, then?' Pippin said. His experience with brush fires was wielding a pick or shovel under someone else's direction.  
  
Everard hesitated, then placed a finger on Tuckborough, moved slowly back towards Tookbank, not far enough, really, and stopped.  
  
'That close?' the Thain gasped.  
  
The last ridge before the Smials. If the fire jumped the break, there would be no more chances; the flames would race up the great hill and over and into Tuckborough faster than any pony could run.  
  
The Thain gave quick orders. 'Ferdi, take all the plows and teams you can gather to the ridge, start plowing the firebreak. Have crews ready to set backfires as soon as you have a wide enough strip. Take a horn with you, blow it when you see the fire approaching, to give warning to the crews in the woods.'  
  
'Right,' Ferdi said, and was off. He ran to the stables, shouting for Old Tom.  
  
'What is it, lad? Slow yourself down a bit, you'll live longer,' the old hobbit said, coming out of a stall, grooming cloth in hand.  
  
'Not necessarily,' Ferdi panted. He rapidly outlined the potential for disaster, the old hobbit nodding, the grin on his face wiped away.  
  
An increasing crowd of stable hobbits gathered round, listening, consternation and horror spread over their faces.  
  
'I know you sharpened and oiled the plows before you stored them, ready for autumn plowing,' Ferdi said. 'Throw all you have into waggons, hitch up teams and start them on to the last hill before the Smials. How many teams do you have out in the fields?'  
  
'None, at the moment,' Old Tom said. 'We've finished the winter barley harvest, and hadn't yet started the wheat... last I heard they wanted to give it a bit more time, though with the dry weather it hardly matters, it's not going to grow any more, to my way of thinking.'  
  
'Then send out as many teams as you have plows, and a couple of spares,' Ferdi said. 'There'll be a call for ponies that can pack barrels, as well, so get your lads started harnessing.'  
  
'Aye,' Old Tom said. 'You heard 'im, lads. Get to work!' The stable lads scattered, some to start harnessing, others pulling out waggons, still others carrying the plows out to the yard to be loaded.  
  
The farm lad who'd brought the warning burst into the stables with the Thain's orders that the thatch be wetted down with buckets of water, and not long after, Reginard stopped in on his way to Tuckborough to roust out the inhabitants, sending them to the relative safety of the Smials, to tell Old Tom to organise the animals. The best of the stock were to be brought into the Great Smials proper, into the great room, and the others set free to run before the flames.  
  
'Better than to have the barns burn down about their heads,' the old hobbit muttered, and Regi nodded.  
  
'That was the Thain's thought as well,' he said, and was gone.  
  
By the time Everard had gathered the other engineers, the ponies that would pack the barrels of black powder into the woods were ready and awaiting them in the yard. Each engineer leapt astride a pony, picked up another's lead rein, and kicked the animals into a fast trot towards the storage tunnel.  
  
Ferdi was helping saddle ponies for the crews going to the woods when the Thain himself entered, Tolly on his heels. 'Is Socks ready to go?' he asked.  
  
'Socks?' Ferdi said, stupidly. 'You're going out?' His first thought was that he hadn't time to arrange the escort, what with the waggons nearly ready to head out to the Hill.  
  
'Of course I am,' Pippin said, and Ferdi nodded. Of course. He'd be going to the top of the Smials, probably, to watch the progress of the firebreaks. 'You go on to the Hill, now; Tolly can come with me.' He opened the door to Socks' stall, while Ferdi grabbed at the saddle. As soon as saddle and bridle were in place, the Thain mounted, there inside the stables, and looked about at the bustling hobbits, momentarily stilled in their labours.  
  
'We can beat this,' he said with a jerk of his chin, reined the pony around and was out the door, Tolly right behind him.  
  
Old Tom had Penny saddled, and Ferdi grabbed a horn, kept for the quick post rider, from the nail on the stable wall. 'Keep saddling,' Ferdi said. 'They'll be sending every free hand to the firebreaks, and the faster they can get there the better for us.'  
  
Reaction hit him suddenly... he was going out... to face a _fire_, bigger by a thousand-fold than the one that haunted his memory, and he staggered.  
  
'Are ye all right, lad?' Old Tom asked, concern deepening the creases in his face.  
  
Ferdi stood frozen, fighting panic, breathing shallowly. Suddenly, he spun away to lose the contents of his stomach in a corner of Penny's stall. Straightening up again, he wiped his mouth on his sleeve, and when he met the old stable hobbit's eyes, he found no condemnation there, only understanding.  
  
'Go with grace, Ferdi,' was all Old Tom said. Ferdi nodded and mounted. He felt steadier, now, better, somehow, and ready to face the monster eating its way across the countryside towards his home.  
  
'Set Dapple loose now,' he said. 'Give her a chance to outrun the flames.'  
  
'She's going into the Smials, being one of the faster ponies in Tookland,' Old Tom answered. 'She'll be all right.'  
  
Ferdi nodded, swallowing down a lump of relief, and kicked Penny into a ground-eating pace, past the line of teams and waggons clattering out of the yard before the Smials, out to the Hill, towards the fire.  
  
He could see the black smoke rising to the sky even before he crested the Hill, though he could not see the line of the fire itself, hidden behind other hills between him and the plain.  
  
Looking behind, he saw the waggons toiling up the hillside, stopping to drop plows at intervals, while hobbits jumped to hitch up teams and begin to cut the firebreaks. The waggons came all the way to the top and then down the other side, and Ferdi was encouraged as he watched the firebreak grow... until he saw the fire mount the far crest of one of the hills in the distance; a wall of flame licking to the sky before it began to eat its way down the hill, to disappear behind a nearer crest.  
  
Ferdi knew that when the fire reached the crest of the next hill over from them, and no later, he must order the backfire set. The fire would crawl down the slope into the trough between the hillcrests, then race up the other side--to them!--faster than a pony could run.  
  
He sat tensely on Penny's back, watching. His crews were making progress; the firebreak had been plowed from the edge of the woods, up over the Hill, and down to the stream that ran into Tuckborough on the other side, and now they were busy making the strip of turned-up sod ever wider.  
  
Ferdi looked back to the top of the hill containing the Great Smials, to see a watching figure. Ah, Pip had reached the top, then. He was as safe there as anywhere, Ferdi figured. If they didn't stop the fire, nobody would be safe. He thought of the thatched roofs of Tuckborough and shuddered. Good thing Pippin had thought to send the people to the relative safety of the Great Smials.  
  
Ferdi thought, also, of Hally and Rosemary, halfway home to Woody End by now, probably getting ready to pull into the yard at the Cockerel for a nice overnight rest before continuing the next day the rest of the way home. If Ferdi's crews didn't stop the fire, here and now, it could race all the way to the Brandywine, burning everything, and everyone, in its path... his sister's family included.  
  
The gently teasing breeze paused a moment, as if for a breath, and then picked up, puffs of wind becoming a steady blow. Ferdi saw the smoke billowing behind the nearest hill, and then suddenly the hill was crowned with flames. He lifted the horn to his lips and blew as hard as he could. 'Set the backfire!' he shouted. 'Set it now! We're out of time!'  
  
He seized a torch from a nearby hobbit, kneed Penny to the edge of the plowed ground, and threw the torch over. 'Beat out any flames that cross,' he shouted, as other hobbits ran across the soft ground to dip their torches, setting the grass and gorse alight on the far side.  
  
Now to warn the crews in the woods; the fire would be moving faster over the field than through the trees, but they were running out of time down there as well. He lifted the horn to his lips again and blew a great blast, then kicked Penny into a run down the hill, towards the woods.  
  
***  
  
When Ferdi reached the workers in the trees, he was dumbfounded to see the Thain in the thick of it, instead of atop the Great Smials as he had thought. Who'd been there? Regi? There was no time to wonder. He pulled Penny to a stop, jumping down to gasp, 'Fire's coming fast! Got to get the workers out if you're not ready.'  
  
'We're nearly ready,' Pippin returned, his gaze sweeping from one end of the fireline to the other. Ferdi watched foresters continuing to fell trees even as the engineers laid fuses of greased candlewicking to a line of black powder that crossed the woods between them and the fire.  
  
The roar of the approaching flames mingled with the screams of memory, and Ferdi looked up in surprise at a hand on his arm. He realised he'd been inching backwards, back towards the pony, away from the fire. He looked up into Pippin's grim face.  
  
'Stand, Ferdi,' Pippin said, just loud enough for him to hear over the cries of the sweating hobbits, the sounds of axes and saws, mattocks and shovels, and the voice of the fire, not yet in sight, though tendrils of smoke had begun to blow over them.  
  
Ferdi was breathing shallowly, on the edge of panic, but the Thain's grip tightened on his arm. 'Stand fast,' Pippin repeated.  
  
Ferdi noted that the Thain's own breath was coming fast and shallow, but not from fear. His face was calm and set. Another wisp of smoke blew by them, and Pippin's grip on Ferdi's arm loosened as he fought off a coughing fit. Suddenly Ferdi was not so afraid of the flames as he was concerned about his cousin.  
  
'We've got to get you out of this smoke,' he said worriedly.  
  
'Got to see if the fire break holds off the fire,' Pippin gasped, then took a pull at his water bottle. Wiping his mouth on his sleeve, he cleared his throat and shouted, 'Aldi!' They watched the chief engineer and his helpers scurry like ants.  
  
Turning back to Ferdibrand, Pippin said again, 'Stand fast, Ferdi. There's worse things than dying.'  
  
'What?' Ferdi said, feeling as if he were in a dream. One did not have philosophical discussions with a wildfire bearing down.  
  
'Living, chained by fear,' Pippin answered. He turned Ferdi squarely towards the fire line. 'Look fear in the face, Ferdi, don't let it make you run. Death's not so bad, I can tell you. We're old friends... been lots of places together...'  
  
Ferdi looked back to Pippin, worry growing. His cousin wasn't making sense.  
  
The chief engineer waved, and raised his horn. At the blast, the workers retreated to a safe distance as they'd been instructed before the work started. Hobbits with tapers ran forward to light the fuses.   
  
'Stand fast, Ferdi,' Pippin said once more.  
  
'I'm standing, cousin,' Ferdibrand answered. 'Tooks aren't going to see me run this time.'  
  
The hobbits watched in suspense as the flames raced along the candlewicking to the line of powder, then with an enormous whoosh the powder went up in blistering heat and flame and billows of white smoke which enveloped the watchers and rose to the skies.  
  
As the smoke cleared, a cheer went up from the watching hobbits to see the blackened ruin left behind. 'Rake it all out!' Everard shouted. 'Down to bare earth!'  
  
Ferdibrand felt a clutch at his arm and turned to Pippin. The Thain had his other fist pressed to his chest, his face was white, eyes staring, mouth open in desperate effort to breathe. More smoke was blowing towards them from the fire, and Ferdi felt his own throat closing in protest. He caught the staggering Thain, threw him across the pony's back, mounted, and kicked the pony into a run, away from the smoke, in search of clearer air.  
  
Penny stretched out into her fastest pace, seemingly unhampered by her double burden, glad to be running away from the fearful fire, Ferdi thought. He'd be glad, himself, if he weren't so worried about Pippin, now a limp weight on the pony's neck before him.  
  
Branches whipped past them, and several times Ferdi barely ducked in time. The wind was rising to a gale behind them, but he thought they had the fire beat, now. They were nearly to the Smials when a wave of heat and smoke rolled over them, and there was no more air in the world to breathe...  
  
Penny staggered, her nostrils flaring in search for air, and Ferdi's own mouth gaped as his lungs protested the smoke they were taking in. They rode into the yard upon wings of smoke. Pulling Penny to a stop before the entrance, Ferdi slid from her back, then pulled Pippin down, to bear him in search of help. ...but his legs would not hold him; traitorous limbs, they folded beneath him, casting him to the ground with his burden. He pulled his cousin into his lap, bending over him, but it was too late, it had to be. If there was no air for him to breathe, with his good lungs, what hope was there for Pip?


	47. Smoke

Notes to Readers:   
  
Thanks for the comments!   
  
Those who have read "FireStorm" and "Striking Sparks" will notice some material in common; a fair amount was lifted from those stories and rewritten from Ferdi's viewpoint. This is in order to make this story stand-alone. I am trying not to make the assumption that a reader will automatically be familiar with the facts of the fire.  
  
Hai, Xena, PansyChubb, frodo, glad that the story was just as good, told over again.  
  
runaround, it seems to be "pick on Ferdi" week, I am so sorry to say, but believe me, thanks to Dana's help, things will get better...  
  
Bookworm, I sure hope the Tooks will get over their fixation with the idea that Ferdi and fire are a bad mix, don't you?  
  
FantasyFan, y'know, I have discovered that Pip's great strength, as well as great weakness, is putting the needs of others before his own. It is driving him crazy over in another story, and here in "Flames" it nearly gets him killed... but it is what makes him a great Thain.  
  
Expect an update in this story every other day unless otherwise informed. I do have a terrible dilemma. The angst is pretty heavy for awhile... and the same thing is happening over in "Merlin". You will think I have it in for hobbits, but really, it is a coincidence that both stories reach the height of angst at the same time. I should have planned out the posting somehow to have a "good" chapter in one story to balance a "bad" chapter in another. Apologies. Angst warning, we are in heavy surf and more breakers loom ahead for the foreseeable future.  
  
Thankfully, the Muse came through with bridging material to link the first 29 chapters with the already-finished later chapters in "Merlin", which means I can guarantee you a new chapter in that story every other day for the next week or two, hoorah! (so long as ff.net cooperates)--and find time to write past chapter 50 in "Flames", I hope. A new chapter to "Merlin" will be added in between updates to "Flames", in case you are following that story.  
  
***  
  
**47. Smoke**  
  
Ferdi felt a hand on his shoulder, and looking up, he recognised a cousin who'd been assigned to guard the main entrance to the Great Smials. The other was breathing shallowly, though the handkerchief over his mouth didn't seem to be doing much good; he began to cough so violently that for a moment he could not speak.  
  
'Healer,' Ferdi managed to gasp, and the other nodded and stumbled away.  
  
Ferdi bent over Pippin again, tears rolling unheeded down his cheeks. He'd failed in the first duty of the head of the escort... to protect the Thain. Pip was dead, and it was his fault. If he'd got him away sooner, before they'd touched off the black powder...  
  
He felt other hands on his shoulders; someone tried to pull him away from Pippin and he tightened his grip. There were hoarse voices speaking to him, hobbits whose faces were streaked black with soot, but none of the words made sense. Behind him, he heard Penny coughing. He wanted to cough, himself, but his lungs felt too full; he was afraid that if he started, he wouldn't be able to stop again until he'd coughed all his insides out onto the stones of the yard.   
  
A clearer voice broke into his confusion. 'What have we here?' Ferdi raised his head, to recognise Mardibold Took. If only it were not too late. If only the healer could make things right again.  
  
'Please,' he whispered. 'Please.'  
  
Mardibold knelt beside him, gently prying his arms away. 'Let me take a look, lad,' he said. The healer turned the limp figure towards himself, and Ferdi saw his shock as he recognised the Thain.  
  
'Please,' Ferdi said again. He felt numb; yet a sense of urgency kept him blurting out the only word that his brain could form at the moment. Mardibold looked to his daughter, next to him... Regi's bride-to-be, some detached part of Ferdi's mind reminded him, and also a healer. Two healers, then. Could two help where one was hopeless?   
  
Rosa immediately said, 'We need water, here, cups for drinking and cloths for wiping.' One of the Tooks nodded and left the group.  
  
'Let me take a look, lad,' Mardi said again.  
  
Ferdi shook his head. 'Too late,' he whispered. 'Too late. We rode like the wind, but the smoke caught us anyway.' He coughed, and could not speak further.  
  
'It's not too late. I do not know how it is, but he's breathing, somehow, not much, but while there's breath, there's life.'  
  
The water was brought, and Rosa held a cup to Ferdi's lips, urging him to drink. Mardi dipped a cloth in a basin and carefully wiped the Thain's face, noting the black smudges around the nostrils that told of smoke in the lungs.  
  
'Is there any clear air inside the Smials?' he asked. 'A closed-off room, perhaps? We've got to get him out of this smoke.'  
  
A Took nodded. 'The Thain's personal apartments were kept closed off,' he said. 'We can take him there.'  
  
'Good,' Mardi nodded. 'We'll get him into his bed at the same time. I'm going to need boiling water, basins, and a large blanket when I get him there.'  
  
'Right,' the same Took said.   
  
The numbness was spreading to Ferdi's arms. He could no longer resist as they carefully lifted the Thain away from him, and bore Pippin into the Smials, past the thinning crowd of bewildered hobbits who were emerging into the smoky courtyard.  
  
'Stay here!' one of the Tooks was bellowing. 'The fire is out, we hear, but we want to be sure before we send anyone off home again!'  
  
Rosa still knelt by Ferdi's side, and then Ferdi heard another familiar voice.  
  
'How is he?' Pimpernel said, kneeling down on his other side.  
  
'He's taken in a lot of smoke,' Rosa said. 'I need to get him into a bed.' Looking about she called sharply, 'Hilly!'  
  
One of the smoke-blackened hobbits jerked around at her call and approached. 'Uncle Hilly,' Rosa said. 'I need to get cousin Ferdi inside, into a bed. Is Uncle Tolly with you?'  
  
'No, he was in the woods with the Thain,' Hilly answered hoarsely.  
  
'The Thain is here,' Rosa answered. 'Ferdi brought him just now.'  
  
'That was the Thain?' Hilly said, and swore, then begged pardon. Bending down, he slipped Ferdi's arm over his shoulders. 'Come, lad,' he said. 'I've orders to get you to a bed.'  
  
'Penny,' Ferdi whispered.  
  
'They're taking care of her now,' Hilly said. 'Old Tom's taken charge, and he's forgotten more about ponies than most hobbits will ever learn.' He straightened, taking Ferdi's weight, and Pimpernel came up on his other side.  
  
'You'll be needed here,' she told Rosa. 'More hobbits will be coming in from the firelines, I think.'  
  
Rosa nodded, Pimpernel had the right of it. She couldn't spend herself recklessly on one patient when many more were undoubtedly on the way. 'Get him to bed, prop him up sitting, and make him drink as much as you possibly can,' she said rapidly. Hilly and Pimpernel nodded and half-carried Ferdi into the Smials.  
  
When they reached Ferdi's room, Pimpernel said, 'I will fetch the water, cousin, while you get him into the bed.' Hilly nodded, taking Ferdi's full weight, and eased him onto the bed, propping him into a sitting position. Lighting a lamp and then closing the door, he quickly stripped off Ferdi's smoke-saturated clothing, dropping it into a crumpled pile, kicking it towards the door. Ferdi had begun to shiver with chill, and Hilly recognised early signs of shock. Grabbing the nightshirt from its peg on the wall, he quickly mantled Ferdi and then pulled up the coverlet over him, adding a thick blanket from the shelf for good measure.  
  
A kick came at the door, and Hilly left Ferdi long enough to open the door to Pimpernel, who carried a tray. He quickly bundled up the clothes and threw them into the corridor, to be dealt with later. He could do nothing about the smoke-smell still emanating from himself and Ferdi, but at least the clothing would no longer contribute to fouling the air of Ferdi's room; the other was gasping for breath as it was.  
  
Pimpernel put her tray down, distributing the contents. A bowl of vinegar went onto the chest, and she placed several candles about the room, lighting them. 'To absorb the smoke,' she said at Hilly's questioning look. 'Any holekeeper worth her salt knows that trick.'   
  
She looked at Hilly sternly. 'You go change out of those smoky clothes,' she said, 'and come right back, or send another watcher. You know it's not proper for me to be alone with him.'  
  
Hilly snorted lightly, but far be it from him to comment on the niceties of the behaviour of the Thain's sister.  
  
Surprisingly, Pimpernel did not bristle, but simply said, 'Go on with you, Hilly.' He nodded and went, as she uncovered the mug on the tray and held it to Ferdi's lips. 'Come, cousin, drink. It's to help your breathing. Just a little sip, now...'  
  
She was able to coax him to take the entire mugful of herbal mixture by the time Hilly returned. He'd quickly scrubbed his hair, for good measure, and the curls atop his head and feet still curled tight in their dampness.  
  
Pimpernel poured a glass of water next, and Hilly raised an eyebrow. 'You going to drown him?' he asked.  
  
'The healer said to force fluids,' she said absently, 'lest he drown of fluid in his lungs from the smoke he breathed. I don't know how it works, but I am very good at taking orders.'  
  
At Hilly's frozen silence, she looked up. 'O but I am, cousin,' she said, 'when I am in my right mind. Which,' she added wryly, 'I must admit has not been the case for the most part, these past few weeks.'  
  
She held the glass to Ferdi's lips. 'Come, cousin,' she said softly. 'One sip at a time...' Hilly was encouraged to see the sip taken, and another, and then Pimpernel spoke again. 'It was like feeling my way in a dark tunnel, and all the doors were closed, locked, and then one day suddenly, a door was open before me and the light was streaming through... It was Pip, you know, who helped me the most...' She stopped, seeming surprised at the moisture that appeared on her extended arm, tears that had fallen without her notice.  
  
'Just when we had reached an understanding,' she whispered. 'I cannot believe he is gone.'  
  
'He's not gone,' Hilly said quietly. 'Not yet, anyhow.'  
  
Hope unlooked-for brightened her face, only to be replaced by apprehension. 'Not yet,' she echoed. 'What does that mean? He's to die, but is too stubborn to give in quite yet?'  
  
'I do not know,' Hilly admitted. 'The talk is...' and he stopped, remembering Pimpernel's opinion of Smials gossip.  
  
Ferdi's eyes opened and he pushed the glass away, croaking, 'What?'  
  
'Tell us,' Pimpernel agreed.  
  
Uncomfortably, Hilly said, 'The talk is that they don't know what's keeping him going, but if they can just get him through the next few days he has a chance.'  
  
'Who's watching with him?' Pimpernel asked.  
  
'Diamond and Mardibold. It might be Woodruff by now; they sent to the firelines for her.'  
  
'They don't need me at the moment, then,' Pimpernel said, as if to herself. 'I'll watch here.' She settled in the chair next to the bed and lifted the glass again. 'Come, Ferdi, drink. You said once when we were little hobbits that you'd do anything I asked, so now I am going to take you up on your offer. Drink.'


	48. Help

Notes to Readers:   
  
Thanks for the comments!   
  
Those who have read "FireStorm" and "Striking Sparks" will notice some material in common; a fair amount was lifted from those stories and rewritten from Ferdi's viewpoint. This is in order to make this story stand-alone. I am trying not to make the assumption that a reader will automatically be familiar with the facts of the fire.  
  
Ah, Dana, such lovely, long reviews. Many thanks. Ferdi thanks you, as well, and asks if you can come to tea at four on the morrow...  
  
Xena, the coughing horse strikes you as funny? How funny.  
  
FantasyFan, ooo, yum, brownies and apple tart! May I have one of each, if you please? (and if it doesn't seem too greedy) Nice analysis of Pippin's character, yes, this is how I see him. Hmmm. I wonder if Paladin's weakness was that he took himself too seriously?  
  
Expect an update in this story every other day unless otherwise informed. Angst warning, we are in heavy surf and more breakers loom ahead for the foreseeable future, both in this story, and in "Merlin".  
  
Thankfully, the Muse came through with bridging material to link the first 29 chapters with the already-finished later chapters in "Merlin", which means I can guarantee you a new chapter in that story every other day for the next week or two, hoorah! (so long as ff.net cooperates)--and we managed to write chapter 51, and a bit of 52, hoorah. I must say, Ferdi is looking quite handsome as he stands up for Ev'ard... A new chapter to "Merlin" will be added in between updates to "Flames", in case you are following that story.  
  
***  
  
**48. Help**  
  
At teatime a knock came at the door. Hilly rose to answer, opening to a pair of tweens with trays. 'Tea,' one said with a nervous bob and look to the bed, while the other stifled an anxious giggle.  
  
Pimpernel looked up from where she sat, holding Ferdi's hand. 'Shhh,' she said softly. 'He's sleeping.' She nodded at the lasses. 'Just put everything down over there and we'll see to the rest.'  
  
'Yes'm,' one of the tweens said, bobbing again, spilling a small amount of tea from the pot on her tray, but then she steadied herself and quickly divested her tray of pot, mugs, plates and spoons, whereupon the other lass dealt out the platters of food.  
  
'Begging your pardon, but... how is he?' the first tween asked shyly.  
  
'He's breathing easier already,' Hilly answered. 'Might even be fighting us to get up by late supper.' The second tween covered her mouth with her hands to stifle another giggle, and with a pair of matched courtesies the tweens took their trays and fled.  
  
Ferdi opened his eyes and made a querying noise. 'Some of your followers,' Hilly said.  
  
'What was that?' Pimpernel asked, not taking his meaning.  
  
'O you know, the lasses, they follow him from target to target at the tournament and nearly swoon with every shot. Head of the Thain's escort, cuts a dashing figure...'  
  
'And not too hard on the eyes,' Pimpernel smiled, stroking an errant strand of hair back from the forehead. 'Would you like some tea, cousin?'  
  
Ferdi shook his head and closed his eyes, but Pimpernel wasn't one to take no for an answer. 'Well, you're going to take some, whether you want it or not,' she said cheerily.  
  
'Pippin?' Ferdi whispered, opening his eyes again. It was hard to force the word out against the swelling in his throat and breathing passages.  
  
'Haven't heard a word,' Pimpernel said, 'and I'd be one of the first to be told, you know, being his favourite sister and all.'  
  
'I thought Pearl was his favourite sister,' Hilly said.  
  
'Not on your life,' Pimpernel retorted, holding the mug to Ferdi's mouth, tilting it to encourage him to sip. 'That's just what she tells everyone, but it is not true at all.' Their continued banter distracted Ferdi enough that he kept drinking. Halfway through the mug, his hand rose to take hold, and she let him decide how much to tilt, how much to swallow at one go.  
  
'Done,' he said at the end, letting his hand drop. 'Want to get up.'  
  
'No you don't,' Pimpernel said. 'Not until the healer says you may.'  
  
Ferdi made a face. 'Overbearing,' he said.  
  
'That I am, always have been,' she replied with a laugh. 'Even Pip will tell you so.'  
  
A spasm of pain crossed Ferdi's face, and he turned his face away, whispering, 'Pip.'  
  
'Now, Ferdi, while there's breath, there's life,' Pimpernel began, but he shook his head.  
  
'My fault,' he said.  
  
Pimpernel looked to Hilly, at a loss, but he looked as disturbed and puzzled as she felt. 'You didn't set the fire,' she said, but he closed his eyes and would not hear her.  
  
'Hilly?' she asked.  
  
'He is responsible for Pip's safety, you know,' Hilly said slowly. 'Tolly was Pip's escort out to the woods. Pip ordered me to stay here, plenty needed doing, but... Ferdi must have been there, he's the head of the escort, he's the one brought Pip in from the fire... maybe he means it's his fault for being caught out, not bringing the Thain in sooner.'  
  
'Ferdi,' Pimpernel said, leaning forward, 'the smoke rolled all the way to the Smials. It would have caught you here just as well.' Ferdi did not answer, and soon his breathing evened out again into sleep.  
  
'He cannot blame himself,' Pimpernel said stubbornly.  
  
'He does,' Hilly said, 'and he'll have plenty of others for company, should your brother die.'  
  
'But it's not fair,' Pimpernel protested.  
  
'Whoever said life was fair?' Hilly said. 'Was it fair of you to start that rumour that he couldn't be trusted with children?' Pimpernel flushed and dropped her eyes. 'Well, was it?' he demanded. 'We all made allowances for you, your condition and all, but you nearly ruined him, you know.'  
  
'I know,' she said softly. 'You should have heard my brother go on... I've never been so ashamed in all my life.' She renewed her grip on Ferdi's hand. 'And Ferdi was so... gracious,' she went on. 'I'd have felt better if he'd kicked me, or something.'  
  
Hilly shook his head. 'I'd have taken you over my knee, lass,' he said, 'but I suppose your little brother couldn't quite do that, and Ferdi would never lift a finger against a lass, no matter how she'd wronged him.'  
  
'No, he wouldn't,' Pimpernel said in a low voice, and looking at her face, Hilly let her be.  
  
A soft knock at the door, and another tween looked in. 'He's hungry,' she said softly, dancing from one foot to the other to soothe the tiny babe she cradled against one shoulder. Pimpernel held out her arms.   
  
Hilly hastily rose, saying, 'I'll be back soon,' and the others nodded, absorbed in the wee mite. Soon the room was filled with the homey sound of a nursing infant.  
  
'How is he?' the tween whispered, nodding at the sleeping figure upon the bed.  
  
'Getting better,' Pimpernel answered in a low voice. The other nodded, and silence reigned again, until the babe finished, was satisfactorily delivered of a burp, and cuddled for a few moments. His mother looked down on him with wondering eyes. 'His fingers are so tiny,' she marveled. 'And those wee eyelashes...' The tween bent over the babe as well as the two admired the little Bolger.  
  
A knock came at the door, and Hilly entered. 'All taken care of?' he asked briskly.  
  
Pimpernel smiled. When he had little ones of his own, he would not be so shy about such matters... 'Finished,' she answered. To the tween, she said, 'All right, Lily, you may lay him down. Another watcher should be taking my place before the babe wakens again.'  
  
'Yes'm,' the tween said with a bob, then carefully took the sleeping babe and left the room.  
  
Somewhat later, Reginard popped his head in at the door. 'How is he?' he asked.  
  
'He's breathing easier,' Pimpernel said. 'The herbs are helping...'  
  
'Not to mention all the water she's forced down him,' Hilly said. 'I'm surprised he hasn't floated away.'  
  
Ferdi's eyes opened and, seeing Reginard, he said, 'How's Pip?'  
  
'Holding his own,' Reginard answered. 'Woodruff's with him now, and she's forgotten more about healing and herbs than most hobbits will ever learn in a lifetime.'  
  
Ferdi started to sit up, to swing his legs over the side of the bed, only to be stopped by Hilly. 'You're not getting up until the healer says so,' he said.  
  
'I'm fine,' Ferdi rasped. He cleared his throat and tried again. 'There's naught so much wrong with me that you must dance attendance on me in my bed.'  
  
Reginard answered, 'Glad to hear it. I'll send a healer to you soon, to make sure you're ready to get up.'  
  
'I don't need a healer to tell me that,' Ferdi retorted, but a coughing fit seized him, allowing Hilly to push him down on the bed again.  
  
'We'll just wait for the healer's opinion,' Hilly informed him, looking down from where he stood over the bed. 'Now are you going to stay there, or do I have to sit on you?'  
  
Ferdi looked to the steward. 'Regi...' he said.  
  
Reginard had no mercy. 'Sit on him, Hilly, if he tries to get out of that bed again before the healer comes.' Meeting Ferdi's gaze, he added, 'I'll send Mardi or someone along as soon as I can. Now you rest.'  
  
'Seems I've no choice in the matter,' Ferdi said huskily.  
  
'That's right. You've none,' Regi said pleasantly, and nodding to Pimpernel, he closed the door.  
  
Reginard encountered Mardibold in one of the corridors, making his rounds of hobbits who'd been burned or had inhaled smoke.  
  
'Ferdi's already pressing to get up,' he said. 'I've got Hilly sitting on him now.'  
  
Mardibold shook his head. 'I don't like it,' he said. 'Not if we're talking about the same Ferdi who brought in the Thain.'  
  
'Well you go talk to him then; p'rhaps he'll listen better to you than he does to me,' Regi said.  
  
'Not likely,' Mardi answered, 'but I'll look in. I'd planned to check on Ev'ard next.'  
  
'Give him my regards,' Reginard said, then walked on, his mind already turning back to the myriad details of dealing with the fire's aftermath.  
  
Mardi found Everard also pressing to get up; his watchers greeted the healer with relief. He was quick and efficient in his examination, and when he stepped back, Everard cleared his throat and said, 'Well?'  
  
'Nothing wrong with you that a week in bed wouldn't cure,' Mardi said cheerily.  
  
'You jest,' Everard said flatly. 'I've been drinking your herbs, disgusting as they are, I've been choking down water until I think I'm about to drown, I've rested half the afternoon, and you expect me to stay in the bed?' He turned his face away to cough, then turned back. 'I'm fine,' he added. 'You go worry about someone who needs your services, like the Thain.'  
  
'He's being cared for,' Mardi said quietly, and Everard relaxed, hearing in the healer's reply that Thain Peregrin still lived.  
  
'I could use your help, if you really do want to get up,' the healer continued.  
  
'What's that?' Everard said.  
  
'Ferdi's pressing to get up as well, I hear. Hilly's been watching him all the afternoon and into the evening; I want you to spell him. Take Ferdi to late supper and then see he gets back to bed.'  
  
'I heard he took more smoke than I did,' Everard said. 'We threw ourselves down when the smoke rolled over us, found a little bit of air to breathe near the ground. On ponyback...'  
  
'They nearly outran the smoke as it was,' Mardi said. 'That Penny must be the fastest pony in Tookland.'  
  
'Not fast enough, I'm afraid,' Everard said grimly. 'But Pippin was in trouble even before Ferdi threw him a-ponyback and galloped off. Had they stayed, seeking the clearer air close to the ground, I think the Thain would have died. Ferdi did the best thing he could have done, riding for the Smials and healer help.'  
  
'You be sure to tell Ferdi that,' Mardibold said quietly.  
  
'He won't believe me,' Everard answered soberly.  
  
'Then keep telling him,' Mardi said.


	49. Healing

Notes to Readers:   
  
Thanks for the comments!   
  
Those who have read "FireStorm" and "Striking Sparks" will notice some material in common; a fair amount was lifted from those stories and rewritten from Ferdi's viewpoint. This is in order to make this story stand-alone. I am trying not to make the assumption that a reader will automatically be familiar with the facts of the fire.  
  
Hai, it's funny, Everard ought to be in bed himself, and here he is watching Ferdi, who also ought to be in bed. There's something about Tooks and their pride... and blame goes right along with that.  
  
PansyChubb, yes Pimpernel is doing better. She really is a good sort, when in her right mind. Groupies... yes, very funny.   
  
FantasyFan, excellent comments, very helpful. Wine and cheese, lovely, and the Muse thanks you for the fresh pineapple, she plopped a piece into her pina colada and dictated another chapter of "Merlin" and half a chapter of "Flames".  
  
Xena, Hilly discreetly bowed in answer to your cheer. All these Tooks have their failings and foibles, but they do tend to grow on you, don't they? I haven't met a "bad" one yet. Misguided, perhaps. Misinformed, maybe. But none really "bad". Even Paladin tried his best.  
  
Expect an update in this story every other day unless otherwise informed. Angst warning, we are in heavy surf and more breakers loom ahead for the foreseeable future, both in this story, and in "Merlin".  
  
Thankfully, the Muse came through with bridging material to link the first 29 chapters with the already-finished later chapters in "Merlin", plus more chapters are now being added, heading steadily towards that wedding on the Far Downs, I am happy to say, which means I can guarantee you a new chapter in that story every other day for the next week or two, hoorah! (so long as ff.net cooperates)--and managed to finish chapter 52 of "Flames", hoorah again. I must say, Ferdi is looking quite handsome as he stands up for Ev'ard... A new chapter to "Merlin" will be added in between updates to "Flames", in case you are following that story.  
  
***  
  
**49. Healing**  
  
Mardi listened to Ferdi's breathing, looked down his throat, asked him questions just to hear him speak. Finally he straightened and said, 'You ought to stay in bed, you know.'  
  
'I'm fine,' Ferdi said stubbornly. 'Beds are for sick folk.'  
  
'All right,' Mardi said, giving in, for he had the feeling that Ferdi would get up anyway, or at the very least make life miserable for his watchers. 'You may get up, take late supper in the great room, and then seek your bed again.' He fixed the head of escort with a stern eye. 'Do you hear me?'  
  
'Nothing wrong with my ears,' Ferdi said, swinging his legs over the side of the bed.  
  
'You mind me, now, or there'll be trouble,' Mardi warned.  
  
Ferdi snorted. 'What sort of trouble?' he said. 'What're you going to do, send me to bed without supper?'  
  
'No, I'll set Woodruff on you,' Mardi said grimly.  
  
Ferdi threw up his hands. 'Spare me,' he said. 'I'll eat, and then seek my bed, if only you'll leave me be.'  
  
Mardi nodded reluctantly, nodded to Hilly and Pimpernel, and left the room.  
  
'Thanks, Nell, for watching with me,' Ferdi said.  
  
'And what am I? Chopped liver?' Hilly said.  
  
'Naw, you'd be stewed liver at the very least,' Ferdi answered. 'But I'm fine, the healer said so, and you may go on about your business.'  
  
'He didn't say you were fine,' Hilly argued.  
  
'He said I could get up,' Ferdi answered. 'Now shoo.' The watchers shooed.  
  
Ferdi dressed, then stretched, taking an experimental breath. As long as he didn't breathe too deeply, he wasn't tempted to cough. He'd keep drinking, of course, more than he wanted, just to encourage healing and keep the healers out of his hair.  
  
He encountered Everard out in the hallway. 'So they let you up,' the other greeted him.  
  
'It was a close thing,' Ferdi said, 'but I talked him round.'  
  
'You silver-tongued fox, you,' Everard said.  
  
'That's me. You may call me "Fox" for short,' Ferdi said with a slight bow, then started walking.  
  
'Where are you going?' Everard asked. 'I thought... it's time for late supper,' he corrected himself. He'd nearly let slip that he'd been assigned to watch the other.  
  
'To see Pip,' Ferdi answered. 'I want to see him with my own eyes. I thought he was dead, when we landed in the yard, but everyone keeps telling me he's still with us.'  
  
'So I've heard,' Everard said. Somehow he thought this might be a bad idea, but Ferdi was a stubborn one, and once he'd set his course there was no turning him from it.  
  
They reached the Thain's private quarters, and Ferdi knocked and entered, Everard right behind him. Recognising the head of the Thain's escort, servants parted before them, though most stayed busy about their tasks; heating water, making tea, preparing herbal concoctions, speaking in low tones.  
  
The two walked through the living area to Pippin's bedroom. Ferdi pushed the door a little wider open, and Woodruff looked up. 'Yes?' she said quietly.  
  
Ferdi had eyes only for the figure on the bed. Pippin was propped up into a sitting position, his head thrown back, mouth gaping. Ferdi could see the chest muscles tighten as he fought for a breath. One gasp. A long pause. Another gasp.  
  
Woodruff rose abruptly, with a nod to Diamond. 'I'll be right back, my dear,' she said. Crossing to the door, she took Ferdi's arm and urged him out, closing the door behind them, cutting off Ferdi's view.  
  
'He's... he's...' Ferdi said in shock. Everard, never before at a loss for words, was silent.  
  
'He's still with us, and fighting hard,' Woodruff said firmly. 'Thanks to you. You got him here quickly enough for us to have a chance to fight.' Ferdi didn't answer, and the healer turned to his watcher. 'Take him to late supper,' she said. 'See if you can get him to eat something.'  
  
'Yes'm,' Everard replied, and steered Ferdi out to the corridor. The other seemed to be in shock, didn't answer when Everard spoke to him, allowed himself to be guided all the way to the great room and seated in his chair.   
  
'You couldn't tell this was a barn just a few hours ago,' one of the Tooks at their table remarked conversationally.  
  
'No, Thorigrim, you couldn't. Someone did a good job scrubbing out.' Everard thanked the server who put plates down in front of him and Ferdi, and picked up his fork, though he wasn't hungry. Ferdi, on the other hand, just sat like a lump, letting the quiet talk flow around him as the hobbits compared notes with each other about the events of the day.  
  
The food was more carefully prepared than usual, the cooks realising the import of food to the exhausted hobbits who gathered there for the last official meal of the day. Everard forced himself to eat and several times tried to get Ferdi to at least pick up his fork, to no avail. Tolly sat down on Ferdi's other side, but Ferdi ignored his attempts to make conversation.  
  
Tolly looked past Ferdi to Everard, raising an eyebrow, and the other shook his head. Leaving Ferdi in peace, he tackled his food without enthusiasm.   
  
When Everard saw his brother come in halfway through the meal, he breathed a sigh of relief and ate with better appetite. Though he'd heard that Reginard had been directing things after the fire, he hadn't actually seen him safe and unhurt until this moment.  
  
They talked quietly about the wonder of the black powder, starting a pleasant argument as to whether anything of value _could_ come out of Buckland, when Ferdi suddenly spoke.  
  
'He shouldn't have been there.'   
  
Everard turned to him. 'What did you say?' he asked quietly.  
  
Ferdi said again, 'He shouldn't have been there. He shouldn't have been at the fire. Why did Regi let him go?'  
  
Everard answered, 'Because Pippin's Thain, and you don't exactly tell the Thain what to do.'  
  
'But he shouldn't have been there!' Ferdi nearly shouted. 'Why did he have to be there?' The hobbits around them fell quiet.  
  
Everard sighed. He had to shock Ferdi out of this mood. 'He was there...' he began quietly, then his voice rose, '...because he was DAFT!' He took in Ferdi's expression with satisfaction; the other was awake, no longer sunk deep within himself but reacting to his cousin's words with indignation, anger. Everard went on. 'He could have stayed, safe in his study, safe in the Smials, with all the doors closed, whilst the fire raged right over Tuckborough and on to the Brandywine. He could have stayed safe...' He fixed Ferdi with his gaze, and let himself deflate. 'But he didn't. Why didn't he? ...because the people are more important than the Thain ...because the Thain swore an oath to protect the people ...because,' and he put a sympathetic hand on Ferdi's shoulder, 'because he had to be there, Ferdi. He had no choice.' Hobbits around them were nodding quietly.  
  
'He wasn't daft,' Ferdi said.  
  
'No, lad, of course he wasn't,' Everard replied. 'I just said that to get you to listen.'  
  
'I should have got him out of there sooner,' Ferdi went on.  
  
'He would have stayed to see the fire break do its work,' Thorigrim countered. 'He had to know if it worked or if it didn't work, so that he would know the next move to be made.'  
  
'You did all you could, Ferdi,' Everard soothed. 'You rode down from the ridge to warn us in the woods. You were the first to see that Pippin was in trouble. You got him out of there as quick as the pony could take the two of you. You did all you could,' he finished.  
  
'At least you didn't leave him to face the flames alone this time,' Thorigrim spoke up. Ferdibrand flinched but didn't answer, and Everard quelled Thorigrim with a look. They finished their meal in silence.  
  
Mardibold rose from his place and put a hand on Ferdi's shoulder. 'Don't give him up quite yet,' he said quietly. 'He's fighting.'   
  
Ferdi nodded, then remembering the glimpse he'd had of Pippin's fight, covered his face with his hands and wept. The other Tooks studiously paid him no mind, and Mardi nodded to Everard. 'Get him to his bed,' he said. 'I'll make up something to help him sleep.'   
  
As Mardi departed, Everard put his hand under Ferdibrand's elbow and urged him up from the table. 'Come, Ferdi,' he said. Tolly met Everard's glance and got up to take Ferdi's other side. Everard nodded thanks, and they escorted him stumbling to his bed and into it.  
  
Mardibold came in, carrying a covered cup, which he coaxed into Ferdibrand, and the three watched while the draught took effect. The healer lifted an eyelid, nodded, said, 'He'll sleep through until morning.'  
  
Tolly said softly, 'He redeemed himself this day.'  
  
Everard shook his head. 'By running away from another fire.' At Tolly's look of shock he said, 'You know that's what the talk will be, should the Thain die. If Pippin lives, of course, Ferdi will be a hero for saving him.'  
  
'He's right, Tolly,' Mardi said softly. 'The Tooks have a long memory, I fear. They've never forgiven him for that youthful prank.'  
  
'They forgave Pippin,' Tolly said stubbornly. 'They made him Thain... we made him Thain.'  
  
'He didn't run away from the fire,' Mardi said. 'If he hadn't stayed to put it out...'  
  
'We didn't have much choice in the matter,' Everard added. 'It was Thain Paladin's wish, it was the natural succession, once he owned his son again, and it was Regi's choice.'  
  
Tolly gave a low snort. 'To remain steward. Why won't he be Thain?'  
  
'For the same reason Mardi here won't be Thain,' Everard said, 'even though he's next in the succession after Pippin.'  
  
'Don't start that again,' Mardibold said. 'Old Isembold, in his infinite wisdom, excused his descendants from the Thainship. It'll pass on to your branch of the family, Ev'ard, and you know it. Will you take it on, if Reginard declines?'  
  
'He won't decline,' Everard said. 'He'll hate it, but he'll take it on. We're running out of options.'  
  
'Who says the Thain has to be a Took?' Mardibold said.  
  
Everard looked at him sharply. 'Mardi!' he reprimanded. 'Bite your tongue!'   
  
The healer only smiled and rose. 'He won't need watchers this night, but you might check on him in the morning, see if you can get him to eat something,' he said.  
  
'I'll watch with him,' Tolly said quietly. 'I'm not sure I'd be able to get up from this chair, anyhow. You go get some sleep, Ev'ard, you look exhausted.'  
  
'Do you want me to make you up a draught?' Mardi said, eyeing him.  
  
'You keep your potions to yourself, Mardi,' Everard said. 'I'm going to take a little walk, and then I'll take myself off to bed. You needn't worry about me.'  
  
Mardi was right about the sleeping draught; Ferdi slept through the night without stirring. Tolly nodded off at one point, jerking awake to find that the other hadn't moved, though several hours had passed if the burned-down candles were any indication.  
  
A tap came at the door; it was Hilly. 'Breakfast,' he said.  
  
'My, my, aren't we coming up in the world. Breakfast served by the Thain's own escort,' Tolly said dryly.  
  
'They have me escorting trays, at the moment,' Hilly said.  
  
'Ah,' Tolly answered succinctly, then nudged Ferdibrand. 'Breakfast has come,' he said, 'and I know you won't eat it cold, so you'd better waken.'  
  
'Don't want any,' Ferdi said blearily.  
  
'Well you're to eat it anyhow, healer's orders,' Tolly said. 'You know how to take orders, don't you?'  
  
'You can order him to fly, but I doubt he'll sprout feathers and...' Hilly began.  
  
'You're no help at all,' Tolly said in exasperation. 'Do go escort your trays somewhere else.' Hilly huffed and left the room.  
  
A tap at the door and Regi stuck in his head. Ferdibrand looked up sharply.  
  
'Well?' Ferdi demanded. 'Is he...?' his courage failed him, and he could not ask the question.  
  
'He's breathing, Ferdi,' Reginard answered quietly. 'Which is more than he'd be doing had you not got him out of there so quickly.' Ferdi looked away, and Regi added, 'Now eat. That's an order from your steward.'  
  
'Right,' Ferdi said tonelessly, and picked up a piece of bread, breaking off a chunk and chewing without enthusiasm. Well, at least he was eating. Regi shared a look with Tolly, and the other nodded. Someone would have to keep watch over Ferdi, as long as he remained in this somber mood.  
  
Hilly came mid-morning to relieve Tolly. 'They're serving elevenses a bit early,' he said. 'Why don't you get some and take yourself off to bed.'  
  
'I'll do that,' Tolly said. 'What is it today?'  
  
'Lovely chicken pie,' Hilly said, looking hopefully at Ferdi, but the other sat quietly, propped up on the bed atop the covers, carving at a bit of wood with his pocketknife. He did not raise his eyes. 'They'll be sending out the trays soon, Ferdi, unless you'd rather eat in the great room?'  
  
'They needn't bother,' Ferdi said, eyes on his work.  
  
'You need to eat,' Hilly said. A good gauge of hobbit health was the amount of food he took in, and Ferdi hadn't eaten enough to sustain a flea since the previous day.  
  
'At least drink something,' Tolly said, pouring a cup of water and holding it out. Ferdi knew better than to resist; the healers would pop him back into the bed if someone complained he wasn't drinking the prescribed amount to counter the smoke he'd breathed.  
  
'All right, take yourself off,' Hilly said. 'He'll eat when the tray comes. I'll see to it.' Tolly wasn't so sure, but he nodded and left the room.  
  
Hilly sat with Ferdi the rest of the day, nagging him mercilessly when trays of food arrived until he ate in spite of himself. After late supper, Tolly reappeared, with news that the healers said Pippin was holding his own, or better, and that he was to take over from Hilly for the rest of the night.  
  
'Go on, Tolly, I don't need a watcher,' Ferdibrand said in annoyance.  
  
'Healer's orders,' Tolly said imperturbably. 'All who breathed smoke are not to be let alone until further notice. Why, you might just drop dead like that,' and he snapped his fingers.  
  
'I doubt that,' Ferdi said.  
  
'So do I,' Tolly said low, 'but if Woodruff finds out I've left you alone this night she'll make my life miserable.' He looked at Hilly. 'Off you go, now,' he said. 'And if you go to the Duck for a mug, I don't want to hear about it.' He turned to Ferdi. 'On second thought, why don't we all go to the Duck...'  
  
'No,' Ferdi said.  
  
Tolly shook his head. 'I thought not,' he said, and beetling his eyebrows he glowered at Ferdi, 'and don't you go suggesting I go off without you.'  
  
Ferdi, who'd been about to suggest that very thing, turned back to his carving. He wished everyone would just leave him alone, but he seemed doomed to be in company.  
  
He fell asleep while carving, and Tolly gently took stick and knife from his hands and settled the coverlet over him. Pulling up the other chair, he rested his feet on the bed and sat back, and soon his snores mingled with Ferdi's.  
  
Hilly came with the breakfast tray, ready to settle in for the day, but then Reginard tapped at the door shortly after breakfast.  
  
Ferdi greeted him with relief. 'Did you come to tell them to leave me alone?' he said.  
  
'No, I came to take a turn watching with you,' the steward answered. Ferdi rolled his eyes and shook his head.  
  
'Honestly,' he said. 'You'd think I was ill.'  
  
'You still have a cough,' Reginard said sternly, and Ferdi sighed. It wasn't worth the arguing.  
  
Ferdi took up his carving again; rather a nice flowering vine twining about a staff was emerging. A tap came at the door and Mardi entered at Regi's invitation.  
  
'O good, did you come to set me free?' Ferdi asked, putting down knife and carving.  
  
'No, the Thain's asking for you,' the healer answered.  
  
'For me?' Ferdi said stupidly.  
  
'Aye, lad,' Mardi answered.  
  
'Is he awake, then?' Regi asked, rising abruptly.  
  
'No, not awake, not really, but he wants Ferdi and he'll tire himself if he doesn't get him, is my way of thinking,' Mardi said.  
  
'Come along, then, Ferdi, let us not keep him waiting,' Regi said, taking Ferdibrand's arm and urging him forward.  
  
They entered the room, to find Diamond leaning forward, holding her husband's hand. As the door opened, she looked up, then back to her husband. 'Ferdi's here, now, Pippin,' she said soothingly. 'He's here, my love, it's all right.'  
  
The Thain moved his head slightly on the pillow. 'Ferdi,' he breathed. 'Stand, Ferdi. Stand fast.'  
  
Reginard gave Ferdibrand a push, and the latter moved forward to take Pippin's other hand. 'I'm here, Pip,' he said.  
  
'Stand fast,' Pippin whispered.  
  
'The fire's coming, Pippin, but I'll stand,' Ferdibrand said, understanding suddenly, realising that Pippin was reliving the fire in his dream. 'But you've got to get out of this smoke.'  
  
'I'm fine,' Pippin whispered. He took a few more rapid breaths. 'Stand, Ferdi.'  
  
'I'm standing, cousin,' Ferdi said. 'Tooks aren't going to see me run this time.'  
  
'Good,' Pippin said, and relaxed. 'That's good.' Ferdi started to pull away, and Pippin moved again. 'Ferdi...'  
  
'I'm here,' Ferdibrand said.  
  
'My fault,' Pippin whispered. His eyes were half-opened, and he seemed to be seeing Ferdi there beside him. 'It was my fault, and you got the blame.'  
  
Ferdi swallowed hard. What was Pip talking about? There had been so many pranks in the old days, and they'd been caught out more than once. Usually Ferdi, as the older and supposedly wiser one, got the blame. 'Not your fault, Pip,' he said, taking a stab. 'We were both in on it, and I was old enough to know better.'  
  
'My fault, 'twas my idea,' Pippin said again. 'Ruined your life for you, and then went off on an adventure and left you to the Tooks.'   
  
This long speech took what little energy the Thain had, and he settled back on the pillows, limp and spent, gone away from them again. Ferdi wondered if his cousin was talking about the stable fire they'd caused when a prank went wrong, which had branded him evermore a coward in the eyes of the Tooks, notwithstanding his "bravery", if you could call it that, against the ruffians. He had run for help, and Pip had stayed to fight the flames, and Pip was forgiven on that account, while Ferdi lived with everlasting blame.  
  
But... perhaps this was about slipping his escort, buying his freedom at Ferdi's expense. Whichever it was, didn't matter. His cousin was using energy he could ill afford to spend at the moment to try to make amends.  
  
'Yes, cousin,' Ferdi said, squeezing the hand in his. 'You did go off without me, 'tis true, and I was angered for a long time. But you hardly ruined my life; I did a fine job of that myself.'  
  
He gazed searchingly into the still face. 'Pip?' he said softly. 'Do you hear me? I do not have to keep on the path to ruin, I can choose another way. I do choose another way. Pippin? I'm standing fast now.' He squeezed the hand again. 'You keep fighting, do you hear me, cousin? Stand fast, yourself.'  
  
'Why don't you sit with him awhile, Ferdi?' Mardi suggested. Ferdi sank into the chair by the bed, and Mardi turned away to pour a cup of water. 'Here, drink this,' he urged. 'You took in enough smoke in the fire, you need to keep drinking.' Still holding Pippin's hand, Ferdibrand sipped obediently.  
  
Mardibold looked over at Diamond. 'I'll be back soon, Mistress,' he said. 'I need to fetch some more herbs to be simmering.'  
  
Pippin lay as he had the previous day, head thrown back, mouth gaping for air. The little energy he'd gained seemed to have left him again. The thought struck Ferdi that he must have looked this way after being crushed by the troll... but no, that was just a story, wasn't it?  
  
He must have been thinking aloud, for Diamond said softly, 'It was no story, and yes, he nearly died. Merry coaxed him through, he said, holding his hand and talking and singing himself hoarse.'  
  
'He always made such a jest of it,' Ferdi said.  
  
'He does that,' Diamond smiled. She raised the hand she held to her lips and lowered it again.  
  
They talked quietly, and Ferdi told a few stories from his and Pippin's shared childhood for Diamond's benefit. 'He was quite the scamp,' she said, laughing. 'And I thought Faramir was a handful.'  
  
'Faramir's very quiet, compared to his father,' Ferdi said. 'Such a serious lad, for his age.'  
  
'He's had to grow up quickly,' Diamond said, her eyes sad. Her hand tightened on her husband's, and he roused slightly.  
  
'Ferdi?' he said.  
  
'I'm here,' Ferdibrand answered, leaning forward to squeeze the hand he held.  
  
'Too much... to ask... forgiveness...' the Thain said.  
  
'He's still on that song,' Ferdi said softly, then louder, for Pippin's benefit, he said, 'I forgave you a long time ago, Pip, no need to worry your head about it now. You just work on coming back.' As Pippin settled back against the pillows, Ferdi added quietly, 'Still, it is nice to be asked, for a change.'  
  
***   
  
At sunset, Woodruff chased Ferdibrand from the room. 'You've sat here all day,' she said, 'with hardly a thought for yourself.'  
  
'I've eaten,' Ferdi said, and Diamond smiled. She'd seen to that. If she couldn't stuff her husband with food, she'd settle on the next available hobbit.  
  
'That's a good thing,' Woodruff said. 'You've eaten, and now you go take your rest. I will need you here again in the morning, to keep watch. Promptly after breakfast, mind.'  
  
'Yes'm.' Ferdi laid the hand he held gently upon the coverlet, nodded to Diamond. 'You rest, too, cousin,' he said.  
  
'Don't you worry about me,' Diamond said. 'I didn't breathe any smoke, after all.'  
  
'Good night, Pippin,' Ferdi said. 'I hope to see you in the morning.'


	50. Awakening

Notes to Readers:   
  
Thanks for the comments!   
  
Those who have read "FireStorm" and "Striking Sparks" will notice some material in common; a fair amount was lifted from those stories and rewritten from Ferdi's viewpoint. This is in order to make this story stand-alone. I am trying not to make the assumption that a reader will automatically be familiar with the facts of the fire. We are about to move beyond "Striking Sparks", however, into new territory.  
  
Bookworm, I think "getting up" is common to Tooks. They just have too much energy to stay in the bed. Kind of like my children.  
  
Aratfeniel, yep, Pip is well-loved and very stubborn. He has something else going for him, in that the Professor says he doesn't die until he's passed the 100-year mark (or at least, Merry has).   
  
PansyChubb, yes, those Tooks... they hold very high standards for themselves, and everyone else around them, and they are not very forgiving of someone else's (or their own) shortcomings. Making excuses is not common amongst Tooks...  
  
FantasyFan, excellent insights, as always. How far is this story to go? Well, we have to get through a few more events (Remembering Day, Yule, the annual Pony Races, and the Tournament) and then we will be bringing this one in for a landing.  
  
Dana, you're a Ferdi fangirl? Was that you, giggling, with the tea tray? You disguised yourself so skillfully as a hobbit tween, I didn't even realise...  
  
Xena, the funny thing is, I am very un-hobbitlike when it comes to being ill. I just want to be left alone. Hmmm. Maybe I'm Tookish. Leave me alone when I'm too sick to get up, and let me get up when I feel well enough to get up...  
  
Expect an update in this story every other day unless otherwise informed. Angst warning, we are in heavy surf and more breakers loom ahead for the foreseeable future, both in this story, and in "Merlin".  
  
Thankfully, the Muse came through with bridging material to link the first 29 chapters with the already-finished later chapters in "Merlin", plus more chapters are now being added, heading steadily towards that wedding on the Far Downs, I am happy to say, which means I can guarantee you a new chapter in that story every other day for the next week or two, hoorah! (so long as ff.net cooperates)--and managed to finish future chapters of "Flames", hoorah again. I must say, the Pony Races look to be very exciting this year... A new chapter to "Merlin" will be added in between updates to "Flames", in case you are following that story.  
  
***  
  
**50. Wakening**  
  
Promptly after breakfast, Ferdi appeared in the Thain's chambers. He'd been out to check on Penny; Old Tom said the smoke had not broken her wind, which was a great relief. Dapple was fine, too, seeming glad to be back in her own stall after the curious experience of being taken into the Smials proper, where no pony had ever gone before.  
  
A gentle, misting, soaking rain had begun before the dawn, and Ferdi stood a long moment in the yard, face to the sky, letting the tiny droplets of water bless his cheeks, before taking up his post by Pippin's side. Droplets clung to his hair as he greeted Diamond, and she said 'It's raining?'  
  
'Aye,' Ferdi said. 'Soft rain. 'Twill put the fire to bed, and bless the crops rather than blast them.'  
  
'Good,' she said, more to herself than to him. 'P'rhaps our luck is turning.' Her eyes went back to her husband's face, and she leaned forward to kiss his cheek. 'It's raining, my love,' she said. 'Remember how we used to walk in the rain together by the River in Buckland?' Of course there was no answer, but she kept spinning stories of their life together, and in her weaving Ferdi could see the depth of the love that bound them.  
  
Regi poked his head in several times, and Faramir came twice, to sit for an hour each time, and tell stories for his father's ears. Ferdibrand marvelled anew at the lad's gift for words at the tender age of five, but then, he'd inherited the magic from mother and father as well.  
  
The hours crawled by with no apparent change in the Thain's condition, though Ferdi thought he might be breathing easier than the previous day. The healer had said something to the effect that each day brought more healing to the damaged lungs.  
  
After the late nooning trays were cleared away, Ferdibrand could see Diamond beginning to nod.  
  
'Why don't you lie yourself down,' he urged. 'You've had no rest since the fire.'  
  
She shook her head stubbornly. 'I am well,' she insisted. Ferdi said nothing, simply sat very quietly, waiting. Woodruff had started a fresh pot of herbal mixture simmering, and the fragrant steam wafted through the room, more soothing than the last pungent mixture. Ferdi felt himself growing drowsy, when he noticed Diamond's head drop forward; she laid her head upon her husband's lap and with a sigh, gave herself up to sleep. Ferdi caught Woodruff's eye. The healer was nodding in satisfaction. She put a finger to her lips and Ferdi smiled his agreement.  
  
Just before teatime, Woodruff went out, returning some minutes later with a tea tray, bearing a mug and a few biscuits, preventing a servant's knock that might have awakened the Mistress. She deftly served Ferdi in silence, giving him a stern look that was better than a flow of words. He ate what was on his plate and drank down the strong, hot herbal mixture. Sure and it would be a relief when they took him off the herbs and gave him actual _tea_ to drink again.  
  
After he finished, she took up the tray again with a whispered. 'I'm off to get more herbs for the simmering, and you ought to be taking a bit of a nap yourself.' She indicated the sleeping Diamond.  
  
'I am well,' Ferdi murmured, and indeed, he felt much better than he had this time the day before.  
  
'You're on the mend,' she corrected, 'but you're not there, yet.' Just then, Reginard poked his head in at the door. Woodruff gave him a nod and turned back to Ferdi. 'Very well, you've been here all the day, now as soon as I get back I want you to go and make a proper tea, and get yourself some rest.' She nodded for emphasis, looked to the steward, said, 'Still no change,' and slipped out the door.  
  
'Went to get more herbs for the simmering,' Ferdibrand said quietly.  
  
Regi moved to the side of the bed, looking down upon his cousin. 'I wonder if he'll ever wake?' he said morosely. 'It's been three days now.'  
  
'He's still breathing,' Ferdi answered. 'That's something.' There seemed no more to be said, and so Regi sat himself down in an extra chair, and the minutes crawled by.  
  
Ferdi's head jerked up as the rhythm of breathing changed, and Pippin's eyes blinked open; his hand pulled free from Diamond's, groping, coming to rest upon her head, fingers twined in her hair. 'How...?' the word came out little more than a croak, and the eyes closed again.  
  
Reginard bent closer, to say urgently, 'Pippin.' Ferdibrand got up from his chair and moved to the table, taking up pitcher and cup. He knew how dry his own smoke-blasted throat had been. He could only imagine how dry his cousin's was.  
  
The eyes blinked open again, searching before finally finding Reginard, awareness sharpening the gaze, not dreaming or half awake, but really with them this time. Pippin moved a dry tongue over cracked lips and whispered, 'How... long?'  
  
'We stopped the fire three days ago,' the steward said softly.  
  
Ferdibrand poured a cup of water and brought it to Pippin's lips. 'Here, Pip,' he said. 'Sip some of this... Small sips.' He was encouraged to see the Thain swallow half the cup of water, a sip at a time.  
  
When Pippin turned his face slightly away from the cup, Ferdi took it away. 'That's better,' Pippin whispered, and the words came more easily this time.  
  
Reginard placed a gentle hand on Diamond's shoulder. 'Diamond,' he said. Her head stirred under Pippin's hand, and the fingers moved in her tangled curls. She raised her head, to stare unbelieving into her husband's face, and then the tears came and she nestled her head gently against his labouring chest, carefully circling him with her arms.  
  
Reginard spoke again. 'You had us a bit worried.'  
  
Pippin managed to nod, but didn't seem to have the energy to speak further.  
  
Ferdibrand bent down to say, 'The fire's out; we managed to stop it with the fire breaks. We still have hobbits out watching for flare-ups and hot spots, but the rains started this morning, so our troubles ought to be finished soon.' Pippin's eyes showed his understanding, and Ferdi smiled. His cousin really was awake this time. He was no longer lying unresponsive, fighting for each breath. Pippin had cheated death yet again, and Ferdi felt like climbing to the top of the Great Smials and shouting the news to the sky.  
  
Instead, he held up the cup. 'Would you like more?'   
  
The head moved feebly on the pillow, and Ferdi put the cup back down. After a few more words, Pippin drifted off to sleep.  
  
'He's going to be all right,' Diamond whispered.  
  
'Yes,' Reginard said. 'He is.' Ferdi nodded, drawing a careful breath of his own. He didn't want to start coughing and waken Pippin again, not now when he was in a real sleep.  
  
Woodruff came in with the herbs; glancing sharply at her patient, she said, 'What's happened?'  
  
'He wakened, spoke a few words, and went back to sleep,' Regi said.  
  
Woodruff closed her fingers about the Thain's wrist, watched the rise and fall of the chest, and smiled, her first genuine smile since the fire. 'His heart is stronger, and he's breathing almost normally... well, normally for him, anyway,' she said. 'I do believe we've turned a corner.'  
  
She looked to Reginard then. 'Go tell Faramir,' she said. 'Set the lad's mind at ease. Perhaps he'll let himself eat and sleep now.'  
  
'Farry's not been eating?' Diamond said softly, in alarm.  
  
'Don't you worry, Mistress,' Woodruff said. 'Regi's been looking after him, getting him to eat and soothing him to sleep. He'll be a good father someday... but I was forgetting,' she added. With a keen glance at Ferdi, she said, 'Go, now, make a proper tea and take yourself off to bed.'  
  
'Yes'm,' Ferdi said meekly.  
  
'I'll see to it,' Regi said. 'We'll both tell Faramir, and then I'll mind Ferdi until he's had a bite and dropped off.'  
  
'I'm no lad,' Ferdi protested.  
  
'Don't try me,' Reginard warned. 'You heard the healer. I'll be a good father someday, so I might as well get some practice in now.'


	51. Abedding

Notes to Readers:   
  
Thanks for the comments!   
  
Those who have read "FireStorm" and "Striking Sparks" will notice some material in common; a fair amount was lifted from those stories and rewritten from Ferdi's viewpoint. This is in order to make this story stand-alone. I am trying not to make the assumption that a reader will automatically be familiar with the facts of the fire. We are about to move beyond "Striking Sparks", however, into new territory.  
  
Aemilia Rose, welcome to "Flames". Pull up a chair, have another cup of tea and a berry tart. Yes, you will get a new chapter of either "Flames" or "Merlin" every day, as long as ff.net co-operates.  
  
Bookworm, welcome to the family! (Tooks, of course)   
  
Cass, how lovely to hear from you! A nice, juicy, wordy review as well. Yum. See the Muse smile... Interesting thought about Remembering Day and the boats. And very funny thought about the support groups, bet they meet in adjoining rooms and come together at the end for tea and cakes and gossip. It is nice that you excused your brother from practical jokes. My upbringing left a bad taste in my mouth in regards to these, and so we do not pull pranks in our househole.  
  
Ff.net permitting, expect an update in this story every other day until we reach the end (chapter 59, yes, the ending is written, and a very lovely one if I do say so myself. Still smiling. Gonna go read it over again. Please don't neglect to review the last chapter, no reviews at the end of a story leave the Muse pensive and pouting). Angst warning: expect intermittent showers in this story, and in "Merlin", we are in heavy surf and more breakers loom ahead for the foreseeable future.

Two new stories have popped into existence in the meantime, which helps to insure I will not run up against a writer's block in "Merlin", such a relief. Look for them soon, the working titles are "FirstBorn" and "Shire".  
  
A new chapter to "Merlin" will be added in between updates to "Flames", in case you are following that story.  
  
***  
  
**51. Abedding**  
  
It was refreshing to waken alone in one's room, Ferdi reflected, with no watcher snoring in the chair beside the bed, or worse, awake and watching him sleep. He rose, stretched leisurely, took an experimental deep breath. The resulting coughing fit did not last so long nor shake him as hard as the previous day, which could be considered progress.  
  
He dressed and sought his breakfast in the great room--another mark of progress, no breakfast tray, eaten in bed, for him this day. The Tooks were much more animated this morning, the good news of the Thain's improvement having spread as fast as puffpenny seeds on a windy day, and Ferdi found himself drawn into a lively conversation over his eggs, bacon, fried tomatoes and fried bread.  
  
After breakfast, he returned to the Thain's quarters. Pippin slept, but Diamond was missing, the healers having persuaded her to breakfast with young Faramir this day. Pimpernel sat in Diamond's chair in her stead, smiling at Ferdi as he entered.  
  
'Have a seat,' she said with a graceful gesture.  
  
'My lady,' he inclined his head.  
  
She laughed. 'You don't have to stand on ceremony with me, you know,' she said. 'I'm not the daughter of the Thain or the lady of the mansion anymore, just a poor relation living on her brother's charity.'  
  
'Never,' he said gallantly. 'You've always been a lady in my eyes, Nell.'  
  
'Well, then, this particular lady orders you to take a seat before I get a crick in my neck from having to look up at you,' she said pertly, and he bowed and complied.  
  
'Your wish is my command,' he said.  
  
'Enough of that,' she said. Pippin stirred, and she bent closer to the bed. 'Hullo, baby brother, and how are we feeling today?'  
  
'You sound just like a healer, Nell, I do believe you missed your calling,' Pippin said without opening his eyes.  
  
'Good morning, Pip,' Ferdi added.  
  
'Ferdi? Is that you?' Pippin said.  
  
'It was the last time I checked,' Ferdi answered.  
  
Pippin chuckled, then said, 'Don't make me laugh, it takes too much breath.'  
  
'How about some breakfast?' Pimpernel said brightly.  
  
'You jest,' Pippin replied, opening his eyes. 'I wager if I'd drowned, the first thing you'd ask when they pulled me from the stream was if I wanted cream or butter on my scones...'  
  
'Do you want cream or butter?' Ferdi asked, and Pimpernel laughed.  
  
'Funny, very funny,' Pippin grumbled. Between them, they managed to coax a fair breakfast into the Thain, and by the time Healer Woodruff entered he was looking much more like himself.  
  
'Good morning!' Healer Woodruff said with a broad smile.  
  
'When can I get up?' the Thain answered. The smile turned to a glower.  
  
'Don't you try me,' Woodruff warned. 'I was having a very pleasant morning, with all those who were burned or breathed smoke mending nicely, and I do not intend to argue with you over staying abed.'  
  
'You may stay abed as long as you like,' Pippin said cheerily.  
  
'Now, Pip,' Ferdi began, but was interrupted.  
  
'Don't you "Now, Pippin" me! You're just as bad,' Pippin said, and turning back to Woodruff, he added, 'I wager you let him up out of the bed a full week before you intended, didn't you?'  
  
'That's beside the point...' the healer said, shaking a finger at him.  
  
'Ha, I knew it,' Pippin said smugly. 'I just...' he was interrupted by a yawn.  
  
'You settle back now,' Pimpernel broke in smoothly, getting up from her chair, to bend over him, soothing his forehead with her fingertips. 'There, now, how's that?'  
  
'I...' Pippin said again, with another huge yawn. He eyed the Healer sleepily. 'I'm not finished with you yet,' he said, yawning again.  
  
'Fine,' Woodruff said gently, watching the sinking eyelids. 'You can finish with me... later.' The last word was whispered as the eyes closed.  
  
'That was quick,' Ferdi said.  
  
'He'll sleep more than he wakes this day, and a good thing too. He needs all the healing he can get, knowing how he'll push himself once he thinks we'll let him get away with it,' the healer answered grimly.  
  
Ferdi was still smiling ironically when the healer turned on him. 'Now for you,' she said briskly.  
  
'Me?' he asked.  
  
'Don't pretend innocence with me,' the healer snapped. 'I'm fed up to here with Tooks and their pride.' She jerked a hand across her chin in an expressive gesture.  
  
'Might as well give in, Ferdi, or next thing you know she'll be popping you into a bed again,' Pimpernel said with a smile.  
  
Ferdibrand sighed and submitted to the healer's examination. 'Satisfied?' he asked when she was finished.  
  
'No,' she said sharply. 'Your lungs are not yet all they ought to be. Don't go running any footraces in the next few days.'  
  
'I'll keep that in mind,' Ferdi said, and with a sniff the healer was gone again.  
  
Ferdibrand and Pimpernel talked quietly through the rest of that watch. Pippin roused a few times to add a comment of his own, but he spent much of the time in a healing sleep.  
  
When Diamond came in just after the late nooning, Pimpernel rose, saying, 'Well, Ferdi, perhaps I shall see you on the morrow. Be sure you do come; I have the feeling you will be needed to sit on my brother.'  
  
'I have the feeling you're right,' Ferdi answered with a laugh. He had risen himself at Diamond's entrance, and she waved him back to his chair.  
  
'He's feeling better, then,' she said hopefully.  
  
'Yes,' Pimpernel answered, 'and he'll be sneaking out to commune with that pony of his before you know it.'  
  
'Not if I have anything to say about it,' Diamond said grimly. 'One five-year-old is about all I can manage at the moment.'  
  
'I'm not a five-year-old,' Pippin protested, opening his eyes.  
  
'Then don't act like one,' his wife said, with a kiss to his forehead. 'Stay in the bed.'  
  
***  
  
Pippin continued to improve rapidly, badgering the healers until Woodruff let him out of bed nearly a week before she'd told Diamond he ought to get up.  
  
'I don't need an escort here in the Smials,' he said to Ferdi as the other walked down to the great room with him.  
  
'Of course you don't,' Ferdi said affably, unobtrusively steadying him. 'But if you fall on your nose I'll get sacked for dereliction of duty.'  
  
'Not to mention the harm it would do to my nose,' Pippin added.  
  
'Exactly,' Ferdi said. 'Besides, I promised Regi that you'd be up for his wedding, and if you fall flat, Woodruff will stick you in bed for another month...'  
  
'We cannot have that,' the Thain said hastily. 'Regi's having enough trouble concentrating on his work as it is. Let us get him safely married off on schedule, shall we?'  
  
'I'll do my part, if you'll do yours,' Ferdi said solemnly.  
  
***  
  
Somehow the Thain managed to evade the healers' clutches, even riding out to watch the progress of the harvest, Ferdi and Tolly or Hilly at his sides. More than once he chided them for crowding him, but the escort took their duties seriously, and in the early days he was shaky enough in the saddle to warrant their caution, in their own eyes, at least.  
  
At last, harvest was finished, the barns and storage holes were bulging, and a great horde of Brandybucks descended upon Tuckborough, bearing with them Everard's bride.  
  
'The trees can breathe easier, now,' Ferdi teased over mugs of ale in the Spotted Duck. 'We won't need to cut so many for your letter writing.'  
  
'Remind me why I asked you to stand up with me,' Everard said.  
  
'Well, if you don't know, then how can I be expected to know?' Ferdi asked reasonably.  
  
Everard snorted, and bought another round.  
  
'Have you seen her yet?' Tolly wanted to know. Everard shook his head.  
  
'Bad luck to see the bride the day before the wedding,' Reginard said morosely, staring into his own ale.  
  
'Don't worry, Regi, you'll remember what she looks like when she stands by your side,' Fredibold said. 'I hardly think you'll mix her up with Ev'ard's bride.'  
  
'No, but the two brides might mistake the brothers,' Tolly said, and shouted with laughter.  
  
'We don't look that much alike,' Reginard said. 'I'm much handsomer.'  
  
'Hah,' Ev'ard said. 'Not on your best day.' He placed his face next to Regi's, saying, 'We do not look a bit alike, now...'  
  
'Yes, Regi,' Ferdi said. 'I mean, Ev'ard. I mean... just which brother are you, anyhow?' The table erupted in laughter again, until a quiet voice spoke just behind the brothers.  
  
'Reginard, I think you and your brother have had enough. 'Tis time to take your rest, now. You do want to _enjoy_ your wedding day, do you not?'  
  
Regi and Ev'ard turned to find Pippin standing behind them, smiling, but firm. He tossed a coin upon the table, saying, 'I'll buy the last round,' then took both brothers by the elbows and escorted them from the room.  
  
'Had enough?' Fredibold laughed. 'Whatever does he mean? The evening's young!' He forestalled Ferdi and Tolly when they would have risen to follow the Thain. 'You told me yourself he gave you the evening off.'  
  
'Yes, but that means he rode out of the Smials alone,' Ferdi said, more bothered than he cared to admit.  
  
'What are you afraid of? That he'll get lost?' a Brandybuck called from the next table.  
  
'More like he'll discover he doesn't need an escort in the first place, and they'll lose their position,' another jeered.  
  
Tolly put a restraining hand on Ferdi's arm. 'Watch your temper,' he said under his breath. 'Consider the source.'  
  
Brandybucks, Ferdi fumed to himself. For the life of him, he couldn't imagine what Ev'ard thought he was doing, hitching himself up to that family. Still, it was his waggon, he could choose his own ponies, but he'd be stuck with the driving of them for the rest of his life... He shook his head and drank down the rest of his mug.  
  
'I'm done,' he said, rising from the table. 'Are you coming, Tolly?'  
  
'Stay a bit longer,' Freddy said. 'We hardly see you as it is, since you moved into the Smials, Tolly.'  
  
'I'm done, as well,' Tolly said, shaking off his brother's hand. 'I'll see you at the wedding.'  
  
'I'll be there with bells on,' Freddy answered.  
  
'Going to dance the Springle-Ring, then?' Ferdi asked.  
  
'Don't I, at every wedding?' Freddy said proudly.  
  
'Wouldn't be a wedding without it,' Tolly said glumly, and then to Ferdi, 'Let's go.'


	52. Wedding

Notes to Readers:   
  
Thanks for the comments!   
  
I have no time to answer your comments this morning, for I am rushing to get this chapter up! Otherwise, it won't get put up until the morrow, and I hate to wait, don't you?  
  
Ff.net permitting, expect an update in this story every other day until we reach the end (chapter 59, yes, the ending is written, and a very lovely one if I do say so myself. Still smiling. Gonna go read it over again. Please don't neglect to review the last chapter, no reviews at the end of a story leave the Muse pensive and pouting). Angst warning: expect intermittent showers in this story, and in "Merlin", we are in heavy surf and more breakers loom ahead for the foreseeable future.

Two new stories have popped into existence in the meantime, which helps to insure I will not run up against a writer's block in "Merlin", such a relief. Look for them soon, the working titles are "FirstBorn" and "Shire".  
  
A new chapter to "Merlin" will be added in between updates to "Flames", in case you are following that story.  
  
***  
  
**52. Wedding**  
  
Hilly was in the corridor when Ferdibrand emerged from his room. He gave a low whistle. 'My word,' he said admiringly. 'Who's the one getting married? You had better watch yourself, cousin, Ev'ard's bride will take one look at you and forget which hobbit she's to wed.'  
  
Ferdi laughed. He had taken extra care, this day, and the rich green of his coat, set off as it was by the dazzlingly white lace-ruffled jabot and fawn-coloured waistcoat and breeches, brought out the sparkle in his Took-green eyes. He turned a few heads on his way to the guest quarters, some not recognising the head of escort, who usually wore subdued greens and earth tones, hunter's clothes, to blend in with his surroundings.  
  
At the door to Mentha Brandybuck's suite, he tapped and waited. The door was opened by the bride's father, and Ferdi made a sweeping bow. 'I am here to escort the bride to the wedding breakfast,' he said.  
  
Maramadas Brandybuck nodded. 'We are ready,' he said. 'Just a moment, please.' He closed the door, and Ferdi waited, knowing the bride was taking her leave of her parents in their last private moments together before the wedding festivities began.  
  
The door opened again, and Mentha Brandybuck stood before him in all her wedding finery, flanked by her mother and father. 'I'm ready,' she said to Ferdi, with a smile. He bowed again and offered his arm.  
  
'You are Ferdibrand,' she said as he escorted her to the great room.  
  
'That I am,' he answered. He half-expected her to giggle or gush or say how much she'd heard Everard talk about him, but she didn't.  
  
'Everard speaks very highly of you,' she said. 'I thank you for standing up with him. It means a great deal to him, you know.'  
  
At a loss for words, Ferdi fell back on the time-honoured response to thanks. 'You are most welcome, my lady.'  
  
They entered the great room, and he seated her with a flourish. 'If you please, my lady, I must leave you, but only for a moment.'  
  
'I promise not to stir,' she smiled, a twinkle in her eye, and Ferdi thought that, just perhaps, Ev'ard might not have made a mistake in his choice of bride.  
  
He went to Everard's room, tapped, and when the door opened, said, 'Your bride awaits.'  
  
'Wouldn't want to keep her waiting,' Everard replied, nervously fussing with his own jabot.  
  
'Here, let me,' Ferdi said, and quickly had the lace pinned properly in place. Taking his gloves from his pocket, he gave Everard's coat a few quick flicks, pulled a sleeve straight, and stepped back to survey the effect. 'You'll do,' he decided, and together they strode towards the great room.  
  
Ferdi seated Ev'ard next to his bride, who looked up and blushed at her beloved's stammered greeting. She put her hand on the table, and Everard covered it with one of his.  
  
Ferdi served them their breakfast, catching the Thain's eye as the latter performed the same services for Reginard and Rosamunda.  
  
Course after course of festive food was served, songs were sung, stories offered by relatives of the brides and grooms, some reminiscing about the brides' and grooms' childhood experiences, others sharing wisdom from their own marriages, advice to the about-to-become-newlyweds.  
  
Ferdibrand kept one eye on the door. When a Took cousin appeared in the doorway, with a nod to indicate that the Sun was approaching her zenith, he nodded to the Thain, who rose from his chair, lifting his glass. 'A toast!' he called. The room fell silent save the scraping of chairs as the rest of the Tooks and visiting Brandybucks rose, glasses held high.  
  
Pippin turned to Reginard and Rosamunda, who sat smiling, hands entwined. 'Laugh long, live long,' he intoned, and lifting his glass higher, he finished, 'Love forever!'  
  
'Hear, hear!' the wedding guests called out, raising their own glasses, drinking the ritual toast. Then it was Ferdibrand's turn to toast Everard and Mentha, after which a group of laughing Tooks surged forward, split to seize both brides, lifting them high, singing as they bore them away to their waiting parents, and Mayor Samwise.  
  
Ferdibrand turned to Everard. 'It's not too late to change your mind,' he said.  
  
Everard snorted. 'You jest,' he said.  
  
'Of course I do,' Ferdibrand said. 'But if you keep her waiting, _she_ might change her mind...'  
  
'That would never do,' Everard said, and linking arms, the two friends followed the crowd.  
  
Mentha smiled when she saw her hobbit approaching, embraced her mother, then her father, and finally stood to meet Ev'ard and Ferdi, her hand in her father's. Ferdi looked to the Mayor, who nodded with all the dignity due the occasion, and Ferdi took Mentha's hand from her father's, placing it in Ev'ard's palm, then moved to stand beside the Mayor, to witness the vows. At the same time, Pippin was performing the same service for Regi, and he moved to the Mayor's other side.  
  
As the traditional vows were repeated, Ferdi caught sight of Pimpernel standing in the crowd, tears running down her face. As he watched, Diamond moved to her side, placing a gentle arm around her sister-in-love's shoulders, holding her close through the rest of the ceremony, tears sparkling in her own eyes as she faced the loss of her own husband, sooner than later if the talk was to be believed.  
  
Ferdi wondered how folk could do it... give your heart away, knowing it would be torn asunder someday. It was almost unheard-of for a Hobbit to marry again after losing a mate. He guessed the best way to go was the way of Frodo Baggins' parents, drowned together--better, if you left off the drowning part, and just concentrated on the "together".  
  
Ah, well. He'd given his heart years ago, in hopeless cause, so all his musing was moot anyhow.  
  
***  
  
As the guests filed into the largest pavilion for the wedding supper, the Thain stood up and clapped his hands for attention. The crowd quieted, and he cupped his hands to his mouth, the better to be heard.  
  
'Tooks and guests! We must observe proper etiquette, in respect for the newly married couples. Therefore, there will be no dancing atop tables...' there was a chorus of groans throughout, but Pippin waved his arms and continued, '...until Ferdibrand, here...' he gestured to Ferdi, standing by Everard and his new bride, '...demonstrates the proper technique.' There was a general cheer, and the musicians struck up the first tune.  
  
At the end of the first dance, Marmadas Brandybuck steered his daughter over to Ferdibrand. 'Take good care of her,' he said solemnly, then winked.  
  
'Rest assured,' Ferdi answered. 'I'm not head of the Thain's escort for nothing, you know.' Marmadas bowed and stepped back, and Ferdi swung Mentha into the dance, leading her gracefully through the figures.  
  
'Who would have thought that a hunter could dance so well?' she twinkled up at him.  
  
'One must be light of foot to stalk birds through the tall grasses without startling them into flight,' he answered.  
  
'Ah,' she said. 'From the stories old Merimac told, you stalked bigger game as well.'  
  
He laughed. 'I do not know that I would call ruffians "game",' he said. ' "Vermin", perhaps.'  
  
Mentha added her laughter to his own. 'Funny, that's just what old Merimac called them. You must have been cut from the same cloth.'  
  
Ferdi sobered. 'That is quite a compliment,' he said. 'The Badger was one of the finest, bravest hobbits I ever knew.'  
  
'He said the same about the Fox, you know,' Mentha answered. The music ended and he bowed as she made her courtesy, then taking her hand, he placed it in Everard's waiting palm.  
  
'Mistress Took, I commend you now to the care of Master Took,' Ferdi said gravely.  
  
'I thank you,' Mentha said, taking her husband's arm. Ferdi bowed again and moved away, to seek refreshment and watch the dancers.  
  
There was a pause in the dancing to allow the dancers to refresh themselves, but the music did not stop; instead there was singing, until the dancers felt themselves adequately rested and ready to begin again.   
  
Ferdi's eye was caught by Pimpernel and her children, sitting at one side of the pavilion, her oldest daughter looking on wistfully. As Ferdi recalled, Rudivacar had danced each of his daughters in turn at the last festal event the Bolgers had attended. Something moved him to put down his cup and walk over to them, pulling his gloves back on, ready to dance.  
  
He smiled and nodded at Pimpernel, then bent to address little Mignonette. 'My lady, may I have this dance?'  
  
She looked up at her mother hopefully, and Pimpernel nodded with a smile. Looking back to him, the lass said, 'I would be most happy to partner you, kind Sir.'  
  
Ferdi gave his courtliest bow and pulled a snowy handkerchief from his pocket, extending one end to her with grave courtesy. Holding either end of the handkerchief, much as if she were a tween not yet "in company" yet allowed to dance with protective close relatives, the two of them moved into the midst of the swirling figures.  
  
At the end of the dance, Ferdi repeated the ritual with her younger sister, much to the amusement of the Tooks around him, while tweens and older lasses of marriageable age, who sighed for him to partner them in a dance, watched wistfully.  
  
As he brought the youngest Bolger daughter back to her family, Ferdi hesitated, then said, almost shyly, 'I don't suppose...'  
  
Pimpernel smiled and said, 'It is a happy occasion, and it is my duty to bless the day by joining in the celebration.' She held her hand out to him, and he took it, the feel of her fingers somehow _right_, even through his gloves. He led her out, placed a hand at the small of her back as she rested her own hand lightly on his arm, took up her other hand in his, and then they stepped into the dance, perfectly matched, moving and breathing as one. He reluctantly released her hand as they moved through the figures, and each feminine hand he touched as the dancers passed around the circle somehow felt _wrong_, until Pimpernel's fingers were safely in his grasp once again and they moved into the next part of the dance.  
  
'Remember Bilbo's birthday party?' she smiled.  
  
'That was truly a farmer's dance,' Ferdi said, 'flying skirts and flying curls and heels kicking up the dust in the lantern-light...'  
  
'Much more fun than all this stiff-and-proper elegance,' she said.  
  
'It's the company that makes all the difference,' Ferdi said. 'You make a lovely partner, whether kicking up your skirts, or floating through formal figures...'  
  
'You spoil me terribly, Ferdi,' she smiled. 'If you're not careful I might begin to believe your fine words. You'll turn my head!'  
  
He kept back the words he wished to say, only nodding with a smile of his own as he raised her hand above their heads for a twirl.  
  
As the music ended, he felt a pang of regret, even as she sighed. 'That was lovely,' Pimpernel murmured, looking up at him. 'Could we... would you mind terribly, if we danced the next as well?'  
  
'For you, my lady, I would dance the night through,' he answered with a smile.  
  
'One more dance is all I ask,' she said, and he nodded.  
  
'Then let us make it a fine one,' was all he answered, and swept her into the swirl of dancers once again.


	53. Talk

Notes to Readers:   
  
Thanks for the comments!   
  
Ah, Dana, good to see you again. I love to get your reviews in my mailbox.  
  
Xena, I love this chapter too. It was fun to write. And see... Ev'ard really *is* shy, he just hides it most of the time.  
  
FantasyFan, yes, thankfully the review of the earlier chapter showed up in my mailbox. Wonder what happened to ff.net? Yes, when I have two angsty stories going at the same time, I like it when I can alternate posting angst in one against cheerful goings-on in the other. Glad it worked out... Thanks so much for the kind words; they mean a lot to me. As to the hobbit custom of hobbits not usually remarrying, it was Dana who told me that. I don't remember where she got it from... will have to ask her one of these days.  
  
Aemilia Rose, here is the update you asked for.  
  
PansyChubb, thanks for hitting the highlights. Yes, a sickbed seems to be a good place to spend time together... (?) Why is that? Lots of quiet time to talk, perhaps...  
  
Ff.net permitting, expect an update in this story every other day until we reach the end (chapter 59, yes, the ending is written, and a very lovely one if I do say so myself. Still smiling. Gonna go read it over again. Please don't neglect to review the last chapter, no reviews at the end of a story leave the Muse pensive and pouting). Angst warning: expect intermittent showers in this story, and in "Merlin", we are in heavy surf and more breakers loom ahead for the foreseeable future.  
  
A new chapter to "Merlin" will be added in between updates to "Flames", in case you are following that story.  
  
NEWS FLASH: Merlin is finished. *sigh* Expect a new chapter every other day, ffnet permitting, up through Chapter 46. And thank you for your patience. While posting the remaining chapters of "Merlin" and "Flames", I hope to have time to work on the new stories ("FirstBorn" and "Shire"), so that I can start posting them as soon as the other stories have been put up in their entirety.  
  
***  
  
**53. Talk**  
  
Ferdibrand continued to take young Faramir and the older Bolger lads out several times a week, either fishing or stalking, learning the ways of the wild creatures. He taught them the same hunter's ways that his father had taught him from an early age, and the practice brought back fond memories of the time before the terrible fire that had robbed his family of so very much.  
  
In mid-October, the Bolgers of Bridgefields came to the Great Smials to fetch Pimpernel and her children, bearing them back to Bridgefields for a month-long stay. The Thain and his escort rode with them as far as the Green Dragon in Bywater, where they ate second breakfast and said their farewells.  
  
'Be well, Nelly-my-girl,' Pippin said with a smile, embracing his sister as the coach drove up before the inn.  
  
'And you, Little Pip,' she returned.  
  
'Let me know if you want your things sent to Bridgefields,' the Thain added.  
  
Pimpernel laughed. 'The manse has been shut up for months,' she said. ' 'Twill need a grand clearing out before we are able to move back in. We will be staying with Odo, this trip, and he will have his workhobbits going over the dwelling to see what needs to be done. I do believe we will spend one more Yule at the Smials, whilst the work is being finished, before removing to Bridgefields, little brother, if you can stand to have us underfoot another month or two...'  
  
'You make me feel five years old when you call me "little brother",' Pippin remarked.  
  
Pimpernel smiled. 'I know,' she said, a twinkle in her eye. 'That's why I do it.'  
  
Ferdi crouched to speak to the children. 'You be good for your Mum,' he said.  
  
'We will,' they chorused cheerily, but little Mignonette said wistfully, 'I wish you were coming with us.'  
  
'Ah,' Ferdi said, 'but you've all your relations in Bridgefields to keep you occupied. You'd have no time for a scruffy old hunter like me.'  
  
'You're not scruffy!' Mignonette protested, and her little sister Coreopsis chimed in indignantly.  
  
'You clean up fairly nicely,' Rudivar said mischievously, 'but I prefer the scruffy hunter, myself. Much more fun.'  
  
Ferdi laughed and tousled the lad's head. 'You do me great honour,' he said, then sobered. 'You take good care of your mother, now.'  
  
'I will,' Rudivar said solemnly, and turned to enter the coach. Ferdi allowed him to climb up by himself, though he handed in the rest of the children, then turned to Pimpernel.  
  
'My lady,' he said. 'Your carriage awaits.'  
  
'Thank you, Ferdibrand,' she smiled, and then said to Pippin, 'Take care of my mother.'  
  
'Always,' Pippin said. 'I'll give her at least as much attention as I do Socks, more even.'  
  
'I doubt that,' Pimpernel said. 'After all, I don't think she would stand for you to cut up apples for her and feed them to her with a bedtime story.'  
  
'All right, forget the apples,' Pippin said. 'But I will do everything else I can to keep her comfortable until your return. Perhaps you'd like her to remove to Bridgefields with you, that you may look after her?'  
  
Pimpernel frowned as she gave this idea serious consideration. 'You know,' she said, 'that might not be a bad thought... if she would go, we would love to have her.'  
  
'I can see there are some serious disagreements in the offing,' Pippin said. 'We might not be willing to let her go.'  
  
'Perhaps she can split her time between the Smials and Bridgefields,' Ferdi said smoothly, 'but I fear the ponies are getting restless and you are keeping the Bolgers waiting.' He nodded to the mounted Bolgers, who returned his nod with smiles of their own.  
  
'Yes, we can discuss this further at Yule,' Pippin said, handing his sister into the coach. 'Of course, Mother will do exactly as she pleases.'  
  
'Of course she will,' Pimpernel agreed, settling in her seat. Ferdi closed and latched the door securely, and the party from the Great Smials stepped back, waving the coach on its way.  
  
  
***  
  
On Remembering Day, Ferdi lit a candle for his father, with no fear of the torch this time. It was progress, and his father, had he been there to see it, would have been satisfied. Of course, had his father been there to see it, he wouldn't have been lighting a candle in the first place. He set the little boat on the waters of the stream and thought of Rosemary, lighting her own candle in Woody End. The two little boats would join all the others floating downstream to the Brandywine River, and on down to the Sea, a flotilla of love and remembering.  
  
***  
  
The Bolgers returned before the First of December and threw themselves into Yuletide preparations. There was much to be thankful for, seeing out the old year, and much to be hopeful for in the new. As usual, a grand ball was planned for Last Night, and everyone wore their finest.  
  
The cooks prepared such a feast that Ferdi wondered if he'd be able to dance at all, but once the music started, he found his feet tapping to the rhythm. He went at once to the little Bolgers, dancing several dances with little Mignonette and Cori and other young cousins, a few with older lasses, though he was always very correct, even stiff, in his behaviour to avoid fanning the flames of talk. He returned at the last to the Bolgers, saying to Pimpernel, 'I do believe the children will be off to bed soon?'  
  
'Yes,' Pimpernel returned. 'They're up past their time already.'  
  
'One more dance?' he asked, and the little Bolger daughters looked beseechingly at their mother.  
  
'One more,' she laughed, 'and then we're off to bed.' He nodded and took Mignonette off, returning at the end of that dance for little Cori. He had timed things perfectly, for the next dance was a clapping dance, and the little lass brought a smile to many faces as she hopped and clapped with the grown hobbits, tiny face very serious as she worked to keep in rhythm. There was a scattering of applause when the dance ended, and Ferdi nodded to the little girl with a smile.  
  
'They're saluting you,' he said.  
  
She looked up at him, wide-eyed. 'Me?' she said in astonishment.  
  
'Yes, my lady. Mind your manners, now.' She took his meaning and made a very pretty little courtesy to the crowd, which brought a smile to every face.  
  
Pimpernel was still smiling as Ferdi brought her youngest daughter back. 'Thank you,' she said, 'that was lovely.'  
  
Ferdi bowed, and hesitated, but she forestalled him. 'Not this night,' she said softly. 'I fear there has been some talk, since the last time we danced.'  
  
His surprise showed in his face before he was able to school his expression, but he bowed again to the children, saying, 'Sleep well, cousins, and I pray that this coming year shall bring you joy and many blessings.' They answered him appropriately, and then several impulsively hugged him before their mother herded them off to their beds.  
  
***  
  
The next morning was a rest day, since so many hobbits had stayed up to greet the new year. Ferdi was up early, for no matter how late he sought his bed, he could not sleep past dawn. His body would waken him when the Sun was rising, even if he was deep within the Smials, unable to see her face.  
  
Reginard was still chasing out the young hobbits who'd talked the night through, roasting mushrooms and bacon on long sticks over the blazing Yule log, when Ferdi entered the great room in search of early breakfast. He put his hand to helping set up the tables, which had been cleared away for dancing the previous night, and then settled down to a hearty breakfast, hot and plenty, just as he liked it. Tolly wandered in when he was half-done, taking the seat opposite. They exchanged good mornings, and ate in silence for a few moments, until Ferdi spoke.  
  
'Tolly,' he said, eyes on the ham he was cutting, 'What does the talk say about me, these days?'  
  
Tolly dropped his eyes and shuffled his feet, clearly ill-at-ease. 'You know I do not pay much heed to talk, cousin,' he said.  
  
'That is why I am asking you, and not Hilly,' Ferdi answered. Tolly did not answer, and Ferdi said, alarmed, 'Is it that bad?'  
  
'No, not at all,' Tolly said hastily. 'I hear more in your defence than anything else.'  
  
'And what do I need defending from?' Ferdi asked, his voice deceptively mild.  
  
Tolly sighed. He hated the talk, hated gossip with a passion, refused to join in the speculation that was rife in the Great Smials, that grew worse in the winter months when the weather kept hobbits indoors and idle. 'Folk have noticed your attentions to Pimpernel and her children,' he said.  
  
'I had gathered as much,' Ferdi said dryly. 'What else?'  
  
Tolly raised his eyes from his plate. 'I know that you have no intention of dishonouring Rudivacar Bolger's memory,' he said firmly. 'You are as honourable a hobbit as the day is long.'  
  
'I dunno,' Ferdi said, 'the days are pretty short this time of year.'  
  
'You know what I mean,' Tolly said in frustration.  
  
'I know very well,' Ferdi answered. The two finished their meal in silence.  
  
***  
  
'A leave of absence?' Pippin asked, then considered. 'You have taken little enough time for yourself, Ferdi, of course you may take a leave of absence. How long do you wish?'  
  
'A month?' Ferdi asked.  
  
Pippin nodded. 'Going to Woody End?'  
  
'Yes, I thought I might make a nice, long visit there, spend some time with the nephews, spoil the nieces a bit,' Ferdi answered. Pimpernel and her family were due to remove to Bridgefields in three weeks' time; if he stayed away for a month they would be well gone before he returned.  
  
'Very well,' Pippin said. ' 'Twill be difficult to do without you, but we'll manage somehow.'  
  
'You always do,' Ferdi answered.  
  
***  
  
However, when he returned, the Bolgers were still in residence at the Great Smials. He asked Hilly about the matter, and Hilly told him that the workhobbits had found some serious problems in the venerable old manse, and that the work would take until Mid-year's Day, or so, before Pimpernel and her children could move back to Bridgefields.  
  
Ferdi sighed, and nodded. He would walk carefully, to spare Pimpernel and her children the pain of idle talk. It was not so hard while the weather remained rainy, but with the arrival of the warm spring days, he found that his efforts had not been wholly successful.  
  
The first really fine day, young Faramir presented himself before the head of escort with a few other hopeful young Tooks. 'Can we go stalking this day?' he said. 'You said you'd show us how to find birds' nests.'  
  
'Only if you promise not to rob them,' Ferdi reminded, and the lads bristled indignantly. He nodded in satisfaction. 'Very well,' he said. 'Meet me after teatime and we will go out to the fields and the Little Woods.'  
  
As they picked their way across a field, later that day, Ferdi asked Faramir where young Rudivar was. Farry looked up, plainly uneasy. 'What have you heard?' Ferdi asked quietly.  
  
'My da said I'm not to repeat talk,' Farry answered.  
  
'Very wise of your da. Good to _listen_ to talk, to know what is going on in the hearts of the people, but unwise to pass it on,' Ferdi said. 'However, if the talk is about me, I want to know what it is.'  
  
Farry nodded, digesting this viewpoint. 'Rudi said...' he began slowly.  
  
'Yes?' Ferdi said encouragingly.  
  
'He said, he already has a father,' Farry went on, his tone puzzled. 'I do not know what he meant, but he said that is why he won't go out with us anymore.'  
  
'I see,' Ferdi said, and he did. 'It's all right, Farry, Rudi and I are still great friends, and that is why we won't be walking out together anymore.'  
  
'I don't understand,' Farry said.  
  
'You will when you're older,' Ferdi answered absently, and the young hobbit sighed. That seemed to be the standard answer for anything he found puzzling. He wondered how old "older" was, and when all his questions would finally be answered. Ferdi distracted him then, by pointing out a lark rising into the sky from the field, and they spoke no more of the matter.


	54. Race

Notes to Readers:   
  
Thanks for the comments! Funny how reviews are so motivating; I always seem to find more to write when I find them in my mailbox... and the writing goes so much slower when it seems as if no one is reading... odd, eh? You do not know how grateful I am for the steady supply of reviews.  
  
Aemilia Rose, gossip is awfully fun, but it is like candy-coated arsenic, really. I bet rats think rat poison pellets are delicious, too. Ferdi has too much sense to believe it, but he wishes to spare Nell and her children the pain of being talked about, just as FantasyFan pointed out in her review of chapter 53.  
  
Hai, welcome back from vacation! Glad you are enjoying the chapters.  
  
FantasyFan, you cannot have Tooks without talk, the two go together hand in hand. Once again, your comments are very insightful. Have you been reading ahead somehow? *grin* Thank you for the information on hobbit monogamy. Glad to know I'm on the right track. Good thing the Professor said "seldom" and not "never".  
  
PansyChubb, another five years? Not quite.  
  
Ff.net permitting, expect an update in this story every other day until we reach the end (chapter 59, yes, the ending is written, and a very lovely one if I do say so myself. Still smiling. Gonna go read it over again. Please don't neglect to review the last chapter, no reviews at the end of a story leave the Muse pensive and pouting). Angst warning: expect intermittent showers in this story, and in "Merlin".  
  
A new chapter to "Merlin" will be added in between updates to "Flames", in case you are following that story.  
  
NEWS FLASH: The new stories are coming along. "FirstBorn" is written through chapter 5, while "Shire" is up to chapter 4 already. Plugging right along. In addition, I have been introduced to the fine art of drabble writing. A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words, no more, no less. You can find the two I've managed thus far at www*livejournal*com, and my user name is Lindelea1 (hey! just like ffnet! Guess I'll stop singing the blues now... "Secret _A_-gent man, Secret _A_-gent man! They've given you a number, and taken away your name!")  
  
***  
  
**54. Race**  
  
On the eve of the Pony Races, after the feast and the following bonfire, Ferdibrand found himself unable to sleep. While others sought their beds, he wandered under the stars, deep in his own thoughts, hardly noting the passage of time. Turning back towards the Great Smials, he noticed with a start that the windows were mostly darkened, with only the light of a watch-lamp scattered here or there. It must be very late, indeed, and with the work he had cut out for him on the morrow, he had better seek his bed sooner than later.  
  
He'd stop by the stables, first, for a last check on Dapple, Star and Penny. He'd look in on Socks as well, though there was no doubt the Thain had already put that pony to bed with a bedtime story and slices of apple.  
  
He might have been a walking shadow, with his quiet step and his hunter's clothes, so it was no wonder the lads did not see him, so intent were they on their mischief. Ferdi stopped short, seeing the flickering lantern light where there ought to be none... He crept forward, listening.  
  
'Still, it feels like stealing to me,' he heard the voice of his nephew Robin say, to be answered by young Faramir.  
  
' 'Tis my father's gold, so it's not stealing, you know. He'd let me have some if I asked.'  
  
'Would he now?' Rudivar Bolger said sceptically.  
  
'Come now, let us not start any fights,' Robin hissed urgently. 'Get the business over and done.' As Ferdi peeked around the corner of the doorway, he saw the lads bent over Socks' off hind hoof, brushing on glue and then applying bits of gold leaf, undoubtedly taken from the store of gold leaf that woodcarver Hally had used to cover the winner's trophy.  
  
The pony moved restlessly, and Faramir said absently, 'Steady, Socks.' Ferdi saw him look up at Rudivar. 'D'you think you could get him another apple? We're half done, just have the front to do, now.' Rudivar nodded and left the stall.  
  
Running into Ferdi, he gasped, but Ferdi grasped him firmly by the arm, putting a finger to his lips. He pulled the lad along to the barrel of apples near the feed room, then whispered, 'You need to get the lantern up off the floor; hang it on a hook. Pony's all too likely to kick it over once you start to work on his front feet.' Rudivar nodded, his eyes wide. Ferdi smiled, took an apple from the barrel, and pressed it into his hand.  
  
'Go now,' he whispered, giving the lad a little shove in the proper direction. He followed a little ways behind Rudivar, stopping where he could see into the stall without being seen. He nodded approval as Rudivar lifted the lantern from the floor of the stall and hung it on the hook.  
  
'What are you doing?' Faramir hissed. 'Someone'll see!'  
  
'Better to be found out, than to have the pony kick the lantern over and start a fire,' Rudivar said. He began to cut the apple into slices, feeding them to Socks one little piece at a time to keep the pony's mind occupied whilst his front hoofs were gilded.  
  
As the mischief-makers finished their work and blew out the lantern, Ferdi glided silently from the stable.  
  
***  
  
The day dawned bright and promising, with a festive atmosphere of bustle and cheer before the Sun even peeked over the horizon. Hobbits came from all over Tookland, from all four Farthings as a matter of fact, for the annual pony races.  
  
A great cheer arose as the Thain spoke the opening words of greeting. Socks tossed his head, and Ferdi soothed him, then tugged at the sable-and-silver silks he wore over his own emerald green. He'd ride Pippin's pony in the first heat, hand the pony over to Tolly to cool him out, strip off Pippin's silks and take Penny from Hilly, who'd be warming her up during the first heat, in time to be ready to race in the second. It made for a busy day... He hoped he wouldn't get confused in later heats and find himself riding the wrong pony, or wearing the wrong silks...  
  
The hills about the racecourse were covered with a blanket of hobbits, and lads of varying ages bedecked the trees like over-sized birds. The ponies lined up at the start, quite a few needing extra help from the starter's assistants. It took two burly Tooks, as a matter of fact, to help Ferdi move Socks to the starting line and keep him there. The Thain's pony was feeling good, and as he reared high, the rising Sun glinted from the gilded hoofs. Socks reared again at the resulting roar from the crowd. Ferdi stuck to his saddle like a cockleburr, but it wasn't easy.  
  
At last the ponies were lined up, relatively ready, and the assistants stepped back. The starter raised his flag, and Ferdi took a deep breath, feeling Socks tense under him. The flag swirled in the air and came down, and they were off! There was not much to tell about the race afterwards; Socks won the heat handily. Many of the onlookers joked that the gilding lent wings to his feet.  
  
Penny was bumped at the start of her heat, and Ferdi thought her racing was over for the day, but the gallant little mare fought her way through the pack to the fore, winning her heat by a head. Ferdi accepted the cheers of the crowd as Penny's due; she had shown her quality, and in only her first race of the day. He grinned broadly at young Faramir, cheering by his father's side; surely the lad's gift of ribbons, braided into Penny's mane, had made her run faster. He cooled Penny out himself, for there would be some time before he had to ride either pony again, in another heat, to qualify for the quarter final race.  
  
Socks and Penny easily won the next heats, and then their quarter finals, advancing to the semi finals, which would determine the field for the final race. Penny had already won her semi final race; she would definitely be in the final contest. Tolly looked up at Ferdibrand as he guided Socks to the starting line. 'Are you going to split yourself in half, then?' he asked.  
  
Ferdi laughed. 'If Socks wins this race...' he noted the swiveling ears and hastily added, 'which of course he will...' the pony tossed his head and snorted, and Ferdi couldn't help laughing again. '_When_ he wins this race,' he said for the listening pony's benefit, 'I'll give Hilly the silks and _he'll_ ride the Thain's pony in the final race whilst I'm riding Penny.'  
  
'Better him than me,' Tolly muttered, and the pony shook his head playfully and reached out to nip him, but he was ready for such tricks, being familiar with the Thain's favourite.  
  
Once again, there was the difficult process of lining up the ponies, and this race had the annoyance of a false start as well. Ferdi eyed the field as they were lining up a second time. He'd watched the quarter finals, to familiarise himself with the competition, and nodded to himself now. Socks would have his work cut out for him. There was the bright bay pony who broke fast and liked to take an early lead, and seemed to run faster when other ponies came up behind. And there was the shining black with one white stocking, a slow starter, who steadily ate up the ground between him and the leaders, until he poked his nose ahead, "Surprise!" just as they crossed the finish line. There was also the chestnut ridden by Hornblower Bracegirdle; the pony was no great shakes, a decent racer, certainly, but the rider was aggressive enough to make up for some of his mount's shortcomings.  
  
Ferdi flexed his wrists slightly and felt Socks quiver beneath him. 'Here we go,' he murmured to the pony. He looked up to see Pippin watching, and gave his cousin a nod and a smile. 'Pip's got his eye on you,' he said to Socks. 'Let's do him proud, shall we?' The pony tensed, and Ferdi saw the starter's flag rise, swirl... and dip.  
  
Socks got off to a good start, jumping ahead of the rest of the pack, but the Bracegirdle pony was right beside him, on the inside. Ferdi let Socks run, not holding him back, but not pushing him either. It would be foolish to use up the pony here, in the first half of the race, with that slow-but-steadily creeping black pony somewheres behind them.  
  
Neck-and-neck the two ponies raced, Hornblower Bracegirdle pushing his pony hard, pushing Socks away from the railing. Socks had his ears back, resenting this treatment, and Ferdi soothed his neck as they ran, murmuring to the back-turned ears, encouraging him to pay the other no mind, set his sights ahead, keep running. It was a dangerous strategy on Hornblower's part. Pushing Socks outward would frustrate the pony and give him a longer distance to run, but it also left an opening for a later bloomer to nose his way into. A quick glance behind him as they swept around the first turn showed Ferdi that the rest of the field was well back, led by the black pony. He saw the bright bay further back; that pony must have had a poor start and might never catch up, if luck was with them.  
  
Socks pulled ahead on the long straightaway, but the chestnut Bracegirdle pony came up again as they came into the second turn. Another glance behind told Ferdi that the black pony had left the field and was slowly catching them up, though as far as Ferdi could tell, Socks' pace had not slackened, he was even running a bit faster than he had off the start.  
  
The chestnut pushed ahead by a nose, and Socks increased his speed to pull even again. Coming around the second turn, the chestnut did not hug the fence as tightly as he might, bumping the Thain's pony as the latter made the turn. 'Watch it!' Ferdi shouted to Hornblower, but the other merely grinned and urged his pony faster. Ferdi felt Socks steady under him as they completed the turn, the chestnut still not tight on the fence, and the Hornblower once again kneed his pony subtly away from the fence, pushing the smoke-coloured pony outwards. Socks resisted, and there was another bump; Ferdi felt the pony's gait change, and with another, more violent bump, suddenly the two ponies and their riders were going down in a terrifying tangle. Ferdi instinctively threw himself clear, for an incredible moment floating in the air before the ground came up to knock him halfway to Buckland. Dazed, he pulled his arms up over his head and curled into a ball as ponies thundered around and over him.  
  
It was so very quiet that Ferdi could hear the wind teasing the leaves in the trees by this quarter of the racecourse, then he heard running feet, stumbling to a stop before him, the thud of knees hitting the ground. Someone touched him.  
  
'Ferdi?' Pippin's voice was anxious, his breathing harsh in the silence.  
  
Another voice spoke... Healer Mardibold, Ferdi thought. 'Don't try to move him.' Hands were running over his body, now, pulling up the silks to look for bruising on his torso, feeling his limbs for breaks.  
  
'Ferdi,' Tolly said urgently. 'Ferdi, are you with us?' Hands were on his arms now, trying to pull them away from his head, and it _hurt_. Ferdi heard somber talk somewhere behind him, about a broken leg, a real shame, the pony was such a good'un...  
  
Ferdi groaned, trying to sit up. 'Lie still,' Mardi said.  
  
'You jest,' Ferdi gritted. It was the bow arm again, he could feel the bones grating together, ah, if he'd only had the luck to break a leg instead... Supporting the broken arm with his other hand, he rolled to his knees.  
  
'Sit down!' Mardi said in frustration, but Ferdi shook his head. Bad idea. He'd have to resort to words for the nonce.  
  
'The pony,' Ferdi replied, a sense of urgency growing. If Socks had broken a leg...  
  
'Blast the pony!' Pippin said, and Ferdi was shocked, not only at the Thain's dismissal of his favourite, but that he should swear at all. He'd never heard his cousin swear, not since Pippin had become Thain.   
  
'Think about yourself for a change, cousin,' the Thain continued, but Ferdi shook off the restraining hands and staggered to his feet. The crowd cheered his apparent escape from injury.  
  
Blinking, Ferdi saw the chestnut pony struggling on the ground, suddenly stilled after a stable hobbit delivered the death stroke. Healer Woodruff was bent over Hornblower Bracegirdle, and there was another cheer from the crowd as he was helped to his feet. Socks was up, Ferdi saw with relief, though the pony held one forefoot off the ground, and Old Tom was running gentle hands up and down the leg.  
  
Ferdi limped over and the old stable hobbit looked up. 'Knee,' he said succinctly. 'I think we can save him.'  
  
'I'm not so sure about his rider,' Mardi said grimly, taking Ferdi by the good arm. 'Come, lad, let's see to you.'  
  
'He belongs in a bed,' Woodruff said, coming up. 'That arm is broken, at the very least.'  
  
'I'm fine,' Ferdi said, and half the hobbits surrounding him snorted. 'Just splint the arm,' he continued. 'I've still a race to ride in.'  
  
'I'll ride Penny,' Hilly broke in. 'You're in no shape...'  
  
'Will you do that, now?' Ferdi said gratefully. 'I'd be that obliged...' the ground was starting to spin about him. He looked sadly at the Thain. 'I'm sorry, Pip,' he said, and then he was falling, hands catching him, and he spun down into darkness.


	55. Interference

Notes to Readers:   
  
Thanks for the comments! Funny how reviews are so motivating; I always seem to find more to write when I find them in my mailbox... and the writing goes so much slower when it seems as if no one is reading... odd, eh? You do not know how grateful I am for the steady supply of reviews. And the Muse has gone to Hawaii, and left no forwarding address. Good thing I finished "FirstBorn". Hope she comes back.  
  
Xena, thanks for the faithful review. Yes, intended a bit of deja vu there, with Ferdi and the boys. Bet he was wishing someone else had done the same for him and Pippin all those years ago. O, and as to racing, I used to be quite horse-crazy for a number of years. Even visited some horse-racing museum in Saratoga, New York, a very long time ago. All I remember now was a huge portrait of some famous Thoroughbred, painted by someone who painted presidents. Sargent? Don't know anymore. Read voraciously about racing, among the books, every "Black Stallion" book known to mankind. Don't know how accurate they are. The first one was written by a teenager, in science class, in high school, I do believe. (Read an interview with Walter Farley, the author. So, young writers, look at what he did! Take hope!)  
  
ElveNDestiNy, welcome. Pull up a chair, and how do you like your tea? Glad you've read all the way through, it shows gumption. Or something. What does it say about me, that I write this many chapters? I shudder to think.  
  
FantasyFan, I am glad the lads didn't burn down the stables, that would have been just too much. I don't think Ferdi told anyone what he saw, so while they might have suspected the culprits, I don't know that they really *knew*. As to "silks", I thought I read somewhere that they're not silk, just like pinks are not really pink but red. I could be wrong, though. Hmmm. Bright colours do really come in handy in horse racing, to tell one rider from another. So many horses are brown. Perhaps the Master of Racing keeps a supply of silks on hand, for riders to use in the Pony Races? Dunno. May have to change the detail if the beta reader quibbles.  
  
runaround, i must admit your musing gave me a turn. i really don't enjoy hurting the characters, but i sure enjoy the character growth and healing that comes afterwards... Without conflict, you have a bunch of people sitting around eating and talking about dull, boring things. Hmmm, sounds like hobbits. Seriously, I was taught that stories need tension and conflict in order to be interesting, and as I do not enjoy writing arguments and fights and unpleasant people (it pains me to write of orcs and ruffians), I tend to fall back on accidents and such to generate dynamic tension. Whew. Enough author-speak for one day.  
  
Ff.net permitting, expect an update in this story every other day until we reach the end (chapter 59, yes, the ending is written, and a very lovely one if I do say so myself. Still smiling. Gonna go read it over again. Please don't neglect to review the last chapter, no reviews at the end of a story leave the Muse pensive and pouting). Angst warning: expect intermittent showers in this story, and in "Merlin".  
  
A new chapter to "Merlin" will be added in between updates to "Flames", in case you are following that story.  
  
NEWS FLASH: The new stories are coming along. "FirstBorn" is written through chapter 9, finished, while "Shire" is up to chapter 4 already. Plugging right along. In addition, I have been introduced to the fine art of drabble writing. A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words, no more, no less. You can find the two I've managed thus far at www*livejournal*com, and my user name is Lindelea1 (hey! just like ffnet! Guess I'll stop singing the blues now... "Secret _A_-gent man, Secret _A_-gent man! They've given you a number, and taken away your name!")  
  
***  
  
**55. Interference**  
  
Ferdibrand was vaguely aware of a whispered argument nearby; he appreciated that they were keeping their voices down, but wished they'd take the discussion somewhere else entirely. Gradually he became aware that _he_ was the subject of discussion.  
  
'...won't have you bothering him, whatever are you thinking of?'  
  
'You'd be rousing him yourself, soon; with that blow to the head I imagine you'll waken him every hour or two through the day and into the night.'  
  
'Yes, but...' Ferdi finally identified the protestor as Healer Woodruff, as vehement as a mother cat defending her kitten.  
  
Another voice Ferdi did not recognise spoke. 'I only wish to ask him a few questions. This cannot wait, we must deal with it before the gossip starts to spread like wildfire; we must fight that fire with facts. He would want it resolved as quickly as possible, himself, I'm sure.'  
  
Ferdi moaned and moved restlessly, his bow arm surprisingly stiff and aching deeply, though the pain was eclipsed by the throbbing in his skull.  
  
'Ferdi?' Woodruff's voice spoke close to him, warm and gentle, somehow soothing and sustaining. 'Ferdi, are you with us?'  
  
'Go away,' he said fretfully. 'Leave me be.'  
  
'Ferdi, I need you to waken,' the healer persisted. 'Just for a moment, then you can go back to sleep.'  
  
'I do not know what is the matter with you healers,' he grumbled. 'When I feel fit enough to rise, you say, "Stay in the bed!" and when all I want is a bit of rest you tell me to wake.'  
  
'Ferdi,' Pippin's voice said close to his other ear, 'Fatty here needs to ask you a question or two.'  
  
'Fine,' Ferdi said bitterly. 'Why don't you serve tea and crumpets whilst you're at it? We shall have a nice gossip over our teacups.' He put his good hand to his head and groaned. 'Please,' he whispered. 'Leave me be.'  
  
'Ferdibrand.' It was the voice he hadn't recognised at first. 'Ferdi, what happened?'  
  
'What do you mean?' Ferdi said, opening his eyes, only to shut them hastily again. The room spun even with his eyes shut, but at least he didn't see double with his lids down.  
  
'What do you remember of the race?' the voice persisted.  
  
'What race?' Ferdi asked, and heard a bitten-off exclamation from the Thain.  
  
'He doesn't remember racing?'  
  
'What _do_ you remember?' Healer Woodruff said smoothly.  
  
'There was more than one race,' Ferdi grumbled. 'Which one is it that you're not clear about?'  
  
'The last one,' the voice, presumably "Fatty", said. "Fatty" who? Could it be Fredegar Bolger? And if so, what was he doing, asking questions? Wondering hurt Ferdi's head. Perhaps if he answered the questions they would go away and leave him alone.  
  
'The last one?' he said. 'I was riding Socks, it was his semi-final race...'  
  
'That's right,' Pippin said encouragingly, and a hand squeezed his shoulder gently.  
  
'I... we... had a false start,' Ferdi said. He was beginning to feel nauseous as well as dizzy. 'We lined up again, and started, and...'  
  
'Yes...?' Fatty said. 'Go on.'  
  
'I...' Ferdi said, swallowing hard. He had begun to sweat, and Woodruff broke in.  
  
'Are you feeling nauseated, Ferdi?'  
  
He clamped his jaw and nodded.  
  
'All right, that's enough,' the healer snapped, but Fatty persisted.  
  
'Do you remember the accident?'  
  
Ferdi took a few shallow breaths to steady his stomach. 'Accident?' he said, puzzled.  
  
'What happened after the start?' Fatty pressed.  
  
Ferdi opened his mouth to answer, then closed it again.  
  
'Ferdi?' Pippin said.  
  
'I... I don't know,' Ferdi answered, frustrated. 'I remember reaching the first turn, but...' It was like walking down a tunnel, only to find a door blocking his way.  
  
'You don't remember anything after that?' Woodruff said.  
  
Ferdi started to shake his head, but that hurt too much, so he contented himself with a whispered, 'No.'  
  
'That's enough,' the healer said more gently. 'It's all right, Ferdi, you get some rest.'  
  
'That's what I was trying to do in the first place,' he said bad-temperedly.   
  
Pippin's hand squeezed his shoulder again. 'We'll talk later,' the Thain said quietly, but Ferdi didn't answer, as sleep crept over him again.  
  
***  
  
Fredegar Bolger sat back and sighed. 'I had hoped to hear his own version of the events.' He slapped his hands gently on his thighs and rose heavily from the chair. 'Ah, well,' he said. 'Plenty more witnesses to interview.' He looked keenly at the healer. 'I want to know immediately when he wakens again.'  
  
'Yes, sir,' Woodruff said grudgingly. She turned to Hilly, standing uneasily by the door. 'Hilly, you keep watch now. Call me if his breathing changes, or if he spews, or if he wakens. I'll be back to rouse him again in an hour or two.'  
  
'Yes'm,' Hilly answered. He sat quietly by the bed, watching Ferdi sleep, until the healer returned. She woke the reluctant Ferdibrand, asked him a few questions, and left again. Since Fatty Bolger did not put in an appearance, Hilly divined that Woodruff had not deigned to notify him that she had wakened Ferdi.  
  
Hilly thought Ferdi had gone back to sleep, when the injured hobbit spoke, startling him.  
  
'What was that all about?'  
  
'What do you mean?' Hilly asked cautiously.  
  
'Fatty Bolger was in here a moment ago, asking questions. What's it about?' _A moment ago? O, he must mean the interview more than an hour before._  
  
Hilly tried to put him off, but he persisted, and Hilly figured it was either send for Woodruff or answer Ferdi's questions. Knowing how Ferdi felt about healers, he thought he'd pursue the latter course.  
  
'Congratulations,' he began.  
  
'What for?' Ferdi asked.  
  
'Penny is the fastest pony in Tookland. Her flowers are hanging right over there,' Hilly said, 'except for the mouthful or two she managed to snatch whilst the trophy was being presented.' Ferdi opened his eyes to see the garlands hanging from one of the pegs on the wall, and smiled weakly, closing his eyes again.  
  
'Wish I'd been there to see it,' he said.  
  
'It was quite the fat purse,' Hilly continued. 'There were so many entries this year, you know.'  
  
'I know,' Ferdi said. 'A fat purse, eh? That might come in handy.'  
  
'You'd think so,' Hilly said. 'Others think so too. There was a complaint lodged after the race.'  
  
'Complaint?' Ferdi said.  
  
'O aye,' Hilly answered. 'Evidently Hornblower Bracegirdle is accusing you of bumping him in the semi-final race, causing the accident.' And of course, if it could be proven that Ferdi had deliberately bumped him, Ferdi would have to pay him damages. Those damages would be high, seeing as how Hornblower's pony had broken a leg and had to be destroyed.  
  
'I bumped him?' Ferdi asked in amazement.  
  
'He _says_ you bumped him,' Hilly emphasised. He sat a moment, then muttered to himself. 'Old Blow-hard. Wish he'd go blow his horn someplace else.'  
  
'That doesn't help matters any,' Ferdi reproved.  
  
Hilly went on. 'Fatty's been given charge of the investigation. The Thain excused himself on account of owning the pony you were riding, and he asked Odovacar Bolger to preside, but old Odo excused himself, for personal reasons, he said. I dunno, perhaps he had a wager on.'  
  
'So they settled on Fatty, as a gentlehobbit, and an uninterested party.'  
  
'Yes,' Hilly answered, 'and he's doing a thorough job of it. He's talked to every rider in the race, not just Hornblower and yourself, and all the hobbits who were watching by that part of the racecourse.'   
  
'That's good,' Ferdi said, but Hilly was silent. 'What is it?' Ferdi said at last. 'Something's bothering you.'  
  
'He talked to me,' Hilly said quietly. 'I don't like the questions he asked.'  
  
'What questions?' Ferdi said.  
  
Hilly was quiet for a moment, then said, 'Are you sure you don't remember anything after the first turn?'  
  
Ferdi thought back, though it made his head ache more fiercely. 'No,' he said slowly, then, 'Hilly, you don't believe I would deliberately bump another rider? Does Fatty think so?'  
  
'I don't know,' Hilly said. 'I just know that the questions he's asking... Ferdi, he asked about the ban that old Thain Paladin pronounced on you, and the rumour Pimpernel started, that you could not be trusted with children. He asked about your conduct, and how much you drink of an evening at the Duck, and even if you place wagers on pony races and the tournament and other contests...'  
  
Ferdi was silent. It did sound as if Fatty were looking into his character. It shouldn't worry him; he had always done his best to walk rightly, but... he'd been damaged by unfounded gossip before. "The talk" could make or break a hobbit, and it had done him more harm than good, over the years.  
  
He knew that he wouldn't deliberately bump another pony in a race... he knew he wouldn't. He just wished that he could remember what had actually happened...


	56. Resolution

Notes to Readers:   
  
Thanks for the comments! They are so helpful.  
  
General note to everybody: You might think the Tooks are picking on Ferdi alone with all their gossip, but really, he is not *the* target of gossip. The Tooks gossip about everything and everyone. We just see the effects on Ferdi because we're focusing on his story.  
  
Dana, loved the reviews! And you managed, once again, not to give away the ending. Way to go.  
  
Xena, yes, horses are magnificent creatures, but they are also an awful lot of work! And they have personalities, just like people. Yes, Hornblower got a bit greedy, didn't he?  
  
FantasyFan, O my, your review made me laugh, it was wonderful.  
  
runaround, nope, no gratuitous angst. Maybe this chapter is the exception to that.   
  
Aemilia Rose, in "At the End of His Rope", troubles were following Pippin like gnats. Hmmmm, wonder where those gnats came from in the first place? D'you suppose that they got tired of biting Ferdi and went in search of new blood?  
  
Ff.net permitting, expect an update in this story every other day until we reach the end (chapter 59).   
  
A new chapter to "Merlin" will be added in between updates to "Flames", in case you are following that story.  
  
***  
  
**56. Resolution**  
  
Woodruff returned twice more to waken Ferdibrand, asking him a few simple questions, seeming satisfied each time.  
  
'If all is well, why won't you let me alone to sleep?' he asked. The double vision still bothered him enough that he kept his eyes closed except for the brief interval where Woodruff ordered him to open his eyes so that she could look into them, hold a lantern close and move it away again.  
  
She patted his shoulder kindly. 'Don't fuss, now, lad, you've rattled your brains and I just want to make sure they settle back in the right place.'  
  
Fatty Bolger spoke from the doorway. 'I thought I asked you to tell me when he wakened.'  
  
'Since I just wakened him, I haven't had time to come and seek you out,' the healer returned.  
  
Fatty came to crouch by the bedside. 'Do you remember any more?' he asked.  
  
'No,' Ferdi said, wise enough not to shake his head this time. He kept his eyes closed, but he felt the other's stare, and then a hand rested itself on his shoulder to give a gentle squeeze.  
  
'We're ready,' Fatty said. 'Fetch a litter.'  
  
There was an exclamation of outrage from Woodruff, which the gentlehobbit calmly set aside.  
  
'This room is much too small to hold a hearing, and he has every right to be there.'  
  
'But... Master Bolger...!'  
  
'We will take good care of Ferdibrand, I promise. He'll be as comfortable as in his own bed,' Fatty said.  
  
'I doubt that!' Woodruff spluttered, but then the Thain spoke.  
  
'I have extended every courtesy to Fredegar, Woodruff, and ask that you do the same. He is doing everyone a great service, in conducting an impartial investigation so quickly. We'll get this whole matter resolved before the talk can blow it all out of proportion.'  
  
'You may accompany your patient, Healer Woodruff,' Fatty said. 'If he should show any signs of distress...'  
  
'You can be assured I will pop him right back into his own bed, where he belongs in the first place!' the healer snapped.  
  
The litter was brought, and gentle hands eased Ferdibrand onto it. 'No, don't try to raise your head,' Woodruff warned, her manner changed from fury with Fatty to gentleness for her poor, mistreated patient.  
  
The litter was lifted carefully and borne as smoothly as hobbitly possible. Ferdi heard Fatty's voice, receding in the distance, and realised that he was being carried very slowly along; the others must have walked ahead, save Woodruff, who held his hand. As they walked along, however, Ferdi's other hand was taken up, and then he heard Pippin's voice close to his ear.  
  
'Fatty knows what he is doing, despite all evidence to the contrary.'  
  
'I can see why we made you Thain,' Ferdi responded without opening his eyes. 'You've a knack for inspiring confidence in the heart of a hobbit.'   
  
Pippin chuckled and squeezed his hand. 'Just hold on, Ferdi. We'll have you back in bed in no time at all.'  
  
'Such comfort,' Ferdi murmured, 'and then you won't let me up out of it when I'm done with it.'  
  
'Undoubtedly,' Pippin answered with another chuckle.  
  
'Ah, well,' Ferdi sighed, 'it's only gold, after all.'  
  
'What's that, cousin?' Pippin asked, puzzled.  
  
'And what is it good for, I ask you? Pound it out flat, and perhaps you can gild your pony's feet, but other than that...'  
  
'Woodruff?' Pippin asked, his voice worried.  
  
'You shouldn't be surprised if he rambles a bit,' the healer said angrily. 'He belongs in his bed.'  
  
There was a buzz of voices ahead of them, which fell silent as they entered... Ferdi opened his eyes for a quick, blurred glance... the great room.  
  
'Bring him up here,' Fatty ordered, gesturing to the front of the room. The litter was brought and laid gently down. Fatty knew from personal experience the impact of a suffering hero on a crowd of hobbits... he remembered the reaction as he was carried from the Lock-holes, too weak to walk out on his own legs. Now he scanned the faces in the room with satisfaction. He hadn't liked what he'd found out in his investigation, and he intended to make an example of the unfortunate hobbit who'd set all this in motion.  
  
His eyes scanned the crowd and he called forth three hobbits, neither Took nor Bracegirdle, intended to be objective in their views: a Chubb, a Grubb, and a Proudfoot. They stepped forward, faces sober. It was an honour so to be chosen, but also a grave responsibility, to render a right decision based upon the evidence presented by the impartial investigator.  
  
Fatty had arranged to have chairs set up for the witnesses. All the riders in that race sat in a line, wearing their bright silks, save Ferdi, whose sable-and-silver silks had been cut away to set his broken arm. Even Hornblower sat there, one eye blackened, his face grim.  
  
Fatty called each witness in turn, and the story gradually came out. The room was packed full of spectators, and hobbits standing in the doorways relayed information to those outside. Those who had ridden in the race described a common practice amongst bolder riders, forcing an opponent running on the outside further out. They disagreed on who bore the responsibility for the first bump; some said Ferdi had cut in too sharply, others said that Hornblower had pushed too aggressively, bumping his pony against Socks when the Thain's pony held his ground.  
  
The race spectators told how the chestnut pony had gone wide in the first turn, even wider in the second, and was drifting further from the fence when the accident occurred. More than one mentioned the black pony, coming up fast, ready to slip into the hole by the inside fence. Hornblower might well have lost the race anyhow, by his chosen tactics...  
  
Fatty questioned Hornblower, who blustered that Ferdi had cut him off, pushed his pony inwards, causing the collision. He took out his handkerchief, wiped his eyes, and blew his nose as he revisited the loss of his fine chestnut pony. 'He was all heart,' he sobbed. 'All heart. Naught of mischief in that beast. Best I ever rode.' A few handkerchiefs were in evidence in the crowded room.  
  
Fatty dabbed at his own eyes, then turned again to Hornblower Bracegirdle. 'Do you have any objection to the evidence presented thus far?' he asked. The hobbit shook his head. 'Do you have any witnesses you would like to call, to add to the evidence I have gathered?'  
  
'It seems you've been quite thorough,' Hornblower said graciously.  
  
Fatty bent over the litter, touching Ferdi's shoulder. 'Ferdi?' he asked gently. There was no answer. Pippin started forward, but Healer Woodruff waved him back. She waved a vial of salts under Ferdi's nose to rouse him, resentment stiff in every line of her body.  
  
Ferdi groaned and tried to open his eyes. 'Ferdibrand,' Woodruff said. 'Ferdi, do you hear?'  
  
'Leave off,' Ferdi muttered.  
  
'Ferdi,' Fatty said. 'I want you to tell me again what you remember about the race.'  
  
'False start,' Ferdi said.  
  
'That's right,' Fatty encouraged.  
  
'First turn...' Ferdi added.  
  
'Yes?' Fatty said.  
  
'Can't... can't,' Ferdi almost sobbed, good hand reaching vaguely towards his head. He opened his eyes, tried to focus on Woodruff. 'Where am I?' he asked. 'Why are you doing this?'  
  
'No more of this,' the healer pleaded, one hand soothing Ferdi's curls. 'He needs to be in his own bed. Please.' She turned her eyes to the Thain, who looked to Fatty.  
  
'We're almost finished,' Fatty said. 'Just a few more witnesses.' He called Hilly and Tolly, a kitchen worker, a stable hobbit, a gardener, and the Thain himself, to testify about Ferdi's character. Summing up their testimony, he said, 'So, we have here a hobbit to whom honour is all. He drinks little, wagers not at all, does not seek after idle pursuits. Would he deliberately bump another pony in a race, in order to gain some advantage?' His eyes swept the crowd, though he carefully did not look at the three jurors.  
  
Next he called several Bracegirdles to testify about Hornblower. These painted a glowing picture, but the last few hobbits called, not Bracegirdles, told of heavy wagers laid on the outcome of the pony races. The most damning fact was that Hornblower had not bet on his own pony, but on the late-blooming black.  
  
Questions over, Fatty stepped back and turned to the three who would decide the case. 'Do you have any questions?' he asked. The three put their heads together, talking in an undertone, while the room buzzed with expectation. The room fell silent as the three rose from their chairs. Lotho Proudfoot, as the oldest of the three, acted as spokeshobbit.  
  
'We have no questions,' he said gravely. 'We find the evidence clear in the favour of Ferdibrand Took.'  
  
Pippin bent close to Ferdi's face. 'Did you hear that, Ferdi? They found Hornblower to be at fault. You've been vindicated.'  
  
'Leave me be,' Ferdi breathed, and Pippin patted his shoulder, nodding to Woodruff.  
  
'Take him back to his room,' he said.  
  
'Finally!' the healer huffed. She nodded to the litter bearers, who lifted him and bore him away. He did not hear the jurors' decision that Hornblower Bracegirdle must pay a hefty fine for causing the accident, and that he was barred from pony races throughout the Shire for the next ten years, if the Thain should allow such a judgment, which he did, as a matter of fact.  
  
He only knew that at some point he ended up in his own bed, allowed to sleep, for the most part, if one overlooked the hourly wakenings to make sure his brains were settling properly back into place.  
  



	57. Machinations

Notes to Readers:   
  
Thanks for the comments! They are so helpful.  
  
Bookworm, save a doughnut for me, will you? I haven't had homemade doughnuts in quite awhile.  
  
FantasyFan, you're right about everything except the Tooks. Really, they would come down solidly on Ferdi's side, he's a Took after all, even as they continued to gossip and speculate about him (and everyone else).Why is "dishing the dirt" so much fun? I remember being intrigued by gossip, even while repelled by it. Now I avoid it like the proverbial plague, even as I continue to write about gossip in my stories.  
  
Xena, it was interesting trying to think up a trial system for hobbits. Marion pointed out once that they don't have law to speak of, not like our law, anyhow. I also tried to keep in mind that Tolkien's world would not have the idea that one is "innocent until proven guilty". At least, I'm pretty sure that is unique to US law, or that the concept was first proposed here. So someone accused is thought of as "guilty until proven innocent." No wonder Pippin was in such a tearing hurry to get the matter resolved before the gossip mongers could take off running. Somehow I thought there'd be no judge (except that the Thain would have ultimate authority to overrule or enforce a decision), and an odd number of jurors (to avoid even splits on decisions), yet a small number to avoid endless discussion, or at least try to avoid it, the trial takes place in front of a crowd (hopefully no shenanigans can be pulled in front of so many witnesses), and the impartial investigator interviews everyone and his brother to try to get to the truth, and presents the evidence to the jurors for a decision on consequences. He *has* to be impartial, or this set-up won't work.  
  
Aemilia Rose, I bet Healer Woodruff is worried that Ferdi wants to sleep, too.  
  
Ff.net permitting, expect an update in this story every other day until we reach the end (chapter 59). Can you believe there are only two more chapters?   
  
A new chapter to "Merlin" will be added in between updates to "Flames", in case you are following that story.  
  
***  
  
**57. Machinations**  
  
After the hearing, Odovacar Bolger took the Thain aside. 'It will take some time to set up the great room for the feast,' he said. 'Shall we take a turn about the field?' Pippin nodded, and the twain, head of the Bolgers and head of the Tooks, walked out together, coming late to the feast, as a matter of fact, though Reginard, as steward, stepped into the breach and made sure that all ran smoothly in the Thain's absence.  
  
Pippin sought Healer Woodruff. 'How's Ferdi?' he asked.  
  
'He'll live, I think, no thanks to you and that Fredegar Bolger,' she said grimly.  
  
'What about his arm?'  
  
'His arm?' Woodruff asked, puzzled. 'It's broken, you knew that.'  
  
'Will he shoot again?' Pippin said urgently.  
  
Woodruff looked at him pityingly, then shook her head. 'I do not know what you are on about,' she said. 'I don't know if he will ever shoot again, and if by some miracle he does, the arm will never stand up to prolonged effort.'  
  
'As in the tournament?' the Thain asked.  
  
'Exactly,' Woodruff nodded.  
  
Pippin sighed. 'I was afraid of that.'  
  
'He'll lose his position, is what you're saying,' the healer said slowly.  
  
'By tradition, the head of escort is the winner of the tournament,' Pippin said. 'It has always been that way.'  
  
'Always?' the healer said ironically.  
  
'Well, for so long that it doesn't matter just how long it has been,' Pippin answered. 'And for good reason. He has to be a good shot, so he can shoot the Thain should the Thain try to win his freedom.' The healer snorted. 'O all right, I made that part up,' Pippin said, 'but Ferdi is so set in tradition, he would not accept the position on any other terms. He'd see it as charity.'  
  
'So... do you plan to pension him off?' Woodruff said soberly.  
  
'That would be such a waste,' Pippin answered. 'I think I can make much better use of him... when will he be up?'  
  
'Sooner than he ought, you can rest assured on that account,' Woodruff grumbled, and the Thain laughed.  
  
'We Tooks lead you a merry dance,' he said.  
  
'Not so merry,' she answered, 'but yes, you do indeed.'  
  
'When may I speak with him?' the Thain persisted.  
  
'Give him a week,' Woodruff said. 'He'll be chafing to be out of bed by then.'  
  
Pippin inclined his head gravely. 'My thanks,' he said.  
  
'You're welcome... I think,' Woodruff answered.  
  
***  
  
A week later, Pippin stopped by Ferdi's room first thing.  
  
'I am sick to death of breakfast trays,' Ferdi greeted him. 'Did you come to set me loose from this prison?'  
  
'Healer Woodruff has more say in that than I do,' Pippin answered. 'I came to ask a question.'  
  
'A question?' Ferdi said.   
  
'Yes,' Pippin answered, 'and I could not ask beforehand because Woodruff has been guarding you like a dragon watching over its hoard.'  
  
'What question?' Ferdi asked.  
  
'Were you with us when the spectators were testifying?' Pippin asked.  
  
'I think so,' Ferdi answered. 'Everything grew rather confused while Hornblower was blowing his nose, but I heard most everything that went on before that.'  
  
'Do you remember what Old Tom said?' Pippin questioned.  
  
Ferdi thought back, then slowly began to recite, word-for-word, the old stable hobbit's testimony. Pippin listened, fascinated.  
  
'I knew you had a phenomenal memory,' he said at last, 'but... how do you do that?'  
  
'I remember all that I hear,' Ferdi said quietly. 'Sometimes it is a blessing.'  
  
_And other times..._ thought his cousin to himself. _I wonder if he still hears the screams that rang out when the burning stables fell in on his uncle and his father. _Somehow he was sure that Ferdi did.  
  
'You're wasted as escort,' Pippin said now. 'I have much better use for you.'  
  
'Do you?' Ferdi asked dryly. 'This doesn't have anything to do with my useless arm, does it?'  
  
'We do not know that the arm will be useless,' Pippin said. 'But while it's healing, I could use those brains of yours... if you did not rattle them too much, anyhow.'  
  
'What do you mean?' Ferdi said.  
  
'I want you working for me, not just when I need an escort, but in the study, when folk are pouring out words at me, wanting me to listen and render a decision. I _do_ listen, indeed, but I often wish I could go over it again...'  
  
'And with me there...'  
  
'Exactly,' Pippin said in satisfaction. 'I can hear it over again, word-for-word, and not worry that I'll miss something in the recollection.'  
  
'Ah,' Ferdi said.  
  
'Will you give it some consideration?' Pippin asked. 'I'll make it worth your while.'  
  
'How much?' Ferdi asked shrewdly.  
  
'As much as head of escort pays, and a little more to sweeten the pot,' the Thain answered.  
  
Ferdi nodded. 'A fair offer,' he said. 'I'll take it.'  
  
'Good,' Pippin said.  
  
'When do I start?' Ferdi asked.  
  
'Just as soon as I can persuade Woodruff to let you up,' Pippin said. 'There is one slight requirement for the job, however.'  
  
'And what is that?' Ferdi asked.  
  
'I have an unmarried sister,' Pippin said ruthlessly. 'I do hope you take my meaning.'  
  
Pervinca? He had to marry Pervinca, to stay in Pippin's good graces? He could not help a shudder.  
  
Pippin laughed, and Ferdi glared at him. 'Don't take it so, cousin,' the Thain said. 'I'm sure she'll grow on you.'  
  
'Warts grow on you, too, but you won't find me seeking them out,' Ferdi said glumly.  
  
'Well,' Pippin said, 'I'll send her in to you, you can have a little talk, get acquainted, and give me your answer at teatime.'  
  
Ferdi didn't answer, and Pippin rose from the bed. 'I can see you're still a bit tired,' he said. 'Why don't you get some sleep? I'll have my sister bring you your second breakfast tray.'  
  
Ferdi nodded miserably, then lay back and closed his eyes. He could not believe that Pip would do this to him.  
  
***  
  
Odovacar Bolger had stayed over after the pony races, for Pimpernel and her children were preparing to remove to Bridgefields just after Mid-year's day, now only a week away.  
  
At early breakfast, he accepted the cup she poured for him and sipped before setting it on its saucer.  
  
'My dear,' he began.  
  
Pimpernel looked up with a bright smile. 'Yes, Odo?' she asked.  
  
'It has been nearly a year since Rudi died,' he said.  
  
Her smile dimmed as she nodded. 'Yes,' she said softly.  
  
'You have borne up well, you have honoured his memory,' he continued.  
  
'I did not do all that well at the beginning,' she said.  
  
'Well...' he answered, 'considering your condition at the time, it was hardly surprising. But your family brought you through, and you and the child are well and strong now.'  
  
'Yes,' she said.  
  
'Tell me,' Odo said, 'are you looking forward to returning to Bridgefields?'  
  
'Of course,' Pimpernel said. 'Some of the happiest years of my life were spent there.'  
  
'You could stay here with your family, in the Smials, you know,' Odo said.  
  
Pimpernel hesitated, then said, 'I cannot do that.'  
  
'And why not?' Odo asked. When she did not answer, he covered her hand with his own.  
  
'My dear,' he said gently. 'I saw your face when Ferdi's pony went down.'  
  
She did not answer.  
  
His look became distant, as he said reflectively, 'Do you know what Rudi told me, a long time ago?'  
  
'No,' she said, her voice very small.  
  
'He said... that he hoped you could learn to love him some day, for he feared your heart already belonged to another.' She did not speak. 'He had seen the glances passing between you and another hobbit here at the Smials, you see.' Pimpernel swallowed hard, and her eyes began to fill with tears.  
  
'My dear, Rudi loved you more than his own life,' Odo went on.  
  
'I know,' she whispered.  
  
'You would not dishonour him, if you found happiness with another, with one you had loved since you were a child, only to be separated by your father's choice.'  
  
'My father thought he was doing what was best,' Pimpernel said.  
  
'I'm sure he did, child,' Odovacar said. 'I am sure he did. And now, I want you to do what is best.'  
  
'And what is that?' she asked, raising her eyes to meet his.  
  
He smiled. 'Haven't I just been telling you?' he asked. 'Listen to your heart, my dear. It knows what is true.'  
  
There was a tap on the door, and at Odo's invitation, the Thain stuck his head in. 'Ah, Nelly-lass,' he said. 'I had hoped to find you here.'  
  
'Where else would I be found, Pippin-lad?' she asked sharply.  
  
'O I don't know, out and about, I suppose,' he said vaguely. 'I wanted to ask you a favour.'  
  
'And that is...?' Pimpernel asked.  
  
'I need to ride out this morning, with Hilly and Tolly, and Tolly was supposed to be watching with Ferdibrand. Ferdi's asleep at the moment, but... I don't suppose you could bring him his second breakfast tray, could you?'


	58. Clarity

Notes to Readers:   
  
Thanks for the comments! They are so helpful.  
  
Hai, thanks for the encouragement. I think Ferdi's reaching a smoother stretch of road in his journey at the moment.  
  
Bookworm, fun, isn't it, contemplating what'll happen when Ferdi realises his mistake? *sigh* Perhaps you could save me a doughnut next time.  
  
Aemilia Rose, rest assured, Ferdi is on the mend.  
  
Xena, you're welcome. Thanks for hitting the highlights in your review. I cannot believe this is the penultimate chapter, myself. (love that word ever since dh introduced me to it.)  
  
Ff.net permitting, expect to see the last chapter in this story two days from this posting.  
  
A new chapter to "Merlin" will be added in between updates to "Flames", in case you are following that story.  
  
***  
  
58. Clarity  
  
Ferdibrand wakened at the sound of a spoon clinking against the side of a cup. He opened his eyes to see... Pervinca, her back to him, fixing him a cup of tea.  
  
It would be difficult, but he would try to let her down easily, telling her he had decided to leave the Smials, go to Woody End. Wondering what Pippin had told her, he cleared his throat. 'Vinca, I...'  
  
She turned, and Ferdi stopped, stunned. 'Pimpernel?'  
  
She smiled and brought him his tea. 'What was that you were saying?' she asked.  
  
'I...' Ferdi stopped. 'Pippin said his sister would be bringing me second breakfast.'  
  
'Yes,' Pimpernel said. 'This is true. I am his sister, or I was the last time I looked.' Her brow wrinkled as she regarded him. 'Are you feeling all right, Ferdi? Is your head aching?'  
  
As a matter of fact, it was, but that was beside the point.  
  
'Pip said...' Ferdi stumbled over the words, his confusion growing, 'he said... his unmarried sister, who was in need of a husband...'  
  
'Did he say that?' Pimpernel asked, torn between amusement and irritation.  
  
'Not in so many words,' Ferdi said hastily, 'but...'  
  
'Odo gave us his blessing,' she answered irrelevantly.  
  
'I...' Ferdi said, then blinked. 'What?'  
  
'Odovacar said that we would not dishonour his brother's memory, should we choose to marry,' Pimpernel said, her tone growing more confident, even as her hand trembled enough to spill the tea she held. Absently, she put the cup down.  
  
'Pippin said...' Ferdi breathed. Then somehow, Pimpernel was perched on the edge of the bed, and his arms were around her in a great hug, even the broken one in its splints and wrappings, and then he put her back and looked into her face. 'O Nell,' he whispered. 'Is it possible?' He took her hand in his good one and lifted it to his lips.  
  
Thus Hilly found them as he tapped and entered, sitting close, Ferdi softly kissing Pimpernel's fingertips.  
  
Scandalised, he started to leave in confusion, but Ferdi stopped him. 'Cousin, be the first to congratulate us!'  
  
'What?' he snapped.  
  
'There's a wedding in the offing,' Pimpernel said with a grin. 'When was it to be, dearest?' she asked Ferdi.  
  
'We hadn't got quite that far, yet. How about today?' She gave him a push, and he said. 'O all right, you name the date. Tomorrow?'  
  
Pimpernel laughed. 'It takes a little bit of time to do things properly... the tournament is next month, and then comes harvest, and everyone will be too busy to enjoy themselves.'  
  
Ferdi sighed. 'After harvest, then, I suppose.'  
  
'That's a good time for a wedding,' Hilly said, as if in a dream. 'Well, I must be going.' He wandered out, quite forgetting why he had come to see Ferdi in the first place.  
  
'What I don't understand is...' Ferdi began, and stopped.  
  
'What is it?' Pimpernel said gently. 'Your head is aching, I can see it in your eyes. Lie back down, let me soothe your forehead.' He obeyed, and her fingers gently moved back and forth over his brow. 'Now, tell me what is troubling you.'  
  
'I cannot understand why Pip...' he said, and told her of the trick the Thain had pulled. 'Why would he make me think he was sending Pervinca?'  
  
'Did he say "Pervinca"?' she asked reasonably.  
  
'Well no, but...' Ferdi said.  
  
'And what would you have said, if he had told you he was giving his blessing to our union?'  
  
'I would have told him he was daft,' Ferdi admitted. 'He couldn't very well give his blessing when I hadn't asked for your hand.'  
  
'And you, bound by tradition, would never have done that,' Pimpernel said softly.  
  
'No,' Ferdi said. 'I never would.'  
  
'That Pip, he's a devious one,' Pimpernel said with a grin.  
  
Ferdi opened one eye, 'That he is,' he agreed. 'Always up to some trick or other.' He sighed and closed his eyes as the fingers soothed and swirled, and soon, he slept again.  
  
***  
  
The next morning, Ferdi sat at early breakfast in the great room, for Woodruff had finally grudgingly allowed him to leave his bed, provided he ate well and rested often.  
  
He ate his eggs and fried bread and delicately browned potato chunks with just the right amount of onion, but was stymied by the piece of ham. He had just started to push the plate away when a voice spoke behind him. 'Here, let me.'  
  
Fatty Bolger pulled Ferdi's plate over and quickly cut up the meat. 'There you are,' he said. 'A bit awkward, with one arm in a sling. Surprised the server didn't see to it for you.'  
  
'It's early yet, they're probably not completely awake,' Ferdi said. Fatty pulled out the chair next to him and sat down, accepting with thanks his own plate of breakfast from a server. Ferdibrand wondered what the other wanted. He'd hardly seen Fatty since the disastrous fire so many years ago, that had turned his family from gentlehobbits into beggars; once, perhaps, at his mother's burial, his mother being Odovacar's sister, and again at Rudivacar's burial, but other than that...  
  
'I hear there's a wedding in your future,' Fatty said quietly.  
  
'News travels fast,' Ferdi commented.  
  
'Ah, you know how it is with the talk. By the way,' Fatty said, changing the subject, 'I wish to apologise for putting you through that hearing. Woodruff told me in no uncertain terms what she thought of me, after she got you back to your bed. I simply thought that if I were the one being talked about, I'd want to be there.'  
  
'You had the right of it,' Ferdi said, spearing a piece of ham. 'I appreciate what you did, even if I was out of my head for the last bit.'  
  
Fatty nodded, his mouth full of ham and eggs. Clearing his mouth with a swig of tea, the Bolger spoke again.  
  
'You know, Aunt Nell is a good sort. I'm that fond of her,' he said.  
  
Ferdi nodded.  
  
'I want what is right for her, you understand?'  
  
'Do you have a point?' Ferdi asked, keeping his tone polite. He glanced at the other, arrested by the shrewd eyes in the fat, sleepy-looking face.  
  
'As a matter of fact, I do,' Fatty said. 'It is almost unheard-of, for a hobbit to marry again. Yet here she is, and here you are...'  
  
When Ferdi didn't answer, he went on. 'My father tells me there was a previous agreement between the two of you, which old Paladin dissolved when Uncle Rudivacar asked for her hand.'  
  
'There was nothing that formal,' Ferdi said, after a sip of his own tea. 'I was the son of a beggar, living off the charity of the Thain, and she was the Thain's daughter.'  
  
Shocked, Fatty said, 'Your father came of good family, descended from Gerontius, the Old Took himself!'  
  
'I do not dishonour his memory,' Ferdi said quietly. 'He would have been the first to point out his situation. He lost everything in the fire, and the few ponies rescued were sold to pay his debts.' He met Fatty's gaze. 'Your own father bought them, as you might recall, perhaps out of pity for his sister's husband.'  
  
'Yes, and he gave you Dapple, out of your father's lines, when you reached your majority,' Fatty said slowly. 'I wanted her myself, but he said...' he shook his head. 'It doesn't matter now.' The keen eyes locked with Ferdi's. 'What I want to know, is this: What are your feelings towards Pimpernel?'  
  
Ferdi was silent for a long moment, meeting the other's gaze. Finally, he said simply, 'She is the air I breathe.'  
  
Fatty nodded slowly. 'All right, then,' he said. 'You have my blessing, whether you need it... or not.' He rose ponderously from the table. 'Grace go with you, Ferdi. I shall see you at the wedding.'


	59. The Beginning

Notes to Readers:   
  
Thanks for the comments! They are so helpful. Please don't feel as if there's no point in leaving comments to this final chapter. Hey, if you want a response, I'd be happy to post another "chapter" with author's notes.  
  
Bookworm, I'd say you are correct in your assumption about the wedding.  
  
Runaround, I do believe your quote would fit right in with a hobbit wedding.  
  
Hai, yes, Fatty is really becoming more "real" to me as I see more of him. Hope you find this wedding satisfactory, I kind of write around it... but then, you've attended several hobbit weddings in my stories, so you can imagine what happened, for sure.  
  
Xena, yes, the last two chapters of this story are sheer joy. I am a sucker for a happy ending. Weddings are so much fun, and the reception afterwards is great, especially at a hobbit wedding!  
  
Aemilia Rose, (mental note, put plexiglass windows in parlour) You have been waiting *that* long? Nearly 50 chapters? My, my, my. Glad you stayed with me. Ferdi is incredibly romantic, as you can see, a little bit, from the way he treats his wife in "Merlin", but he just hasn't had much opportunity until now to express it verbally. He actually gets very corny in this chapter--almost deleted it but let it stand. He has waited so long, after all, to tell Nell how he feels about her.  
  
Frodo, good to hear from you. Yes, good for Pip, and Odo, too!  
  
FantasyFan, it was a relief to read your reviews! Missed you, you know. So you got caught in the power outage, poor thing. To answer your question, as a matter of fact, the two heads of their respective families *were* in collusion. I am thinking of changing the chapter title (ch 57) from "Machinations" to "Collusion" as a matter of fact, came up with that last night while editing, so your question is very appropriate. Hope your power supply cooperates for this chapter, the wedding!  
  
Ff.net permitting, expect to see the first chapter of the sequel to this story two days from this posting. The name of the story is "FirstBorn".  
  
A new chapter to "Merlin" will be added on the morrow, if ffnet agrees, in case you are following that story.  
  
***  
  
**59. The Beginning**  
  
Shortly before the tournament, Pippin came late into the Thain's study with a grave face.  
  
'What is it?' Reginard said, rising in alarm.  
  
'The Master of the Tournament,' Pippin said. 'He died in the night.' He sighed. 'Healer Woodruff said it was his time to go, he'd been having problems but didn't want anyone but the healer to know. What are we going to do?'  
  
'The tournament is two days away,' Regi said, sitting back down.  
  
'We need a Master,' Pippin said.  
  
'What about Ferdi, here?' Regi asked.  
  
'What about me?' Ferdi asked stupidly.  
  
'You've only won the tournament the last few years running, is all,' Regi said in exasperation. 'You know all that you need to know, to act as Master.'  
  
'That's a wonderful idea, Regi,' Pippin said enthusiastically. 'I wish I'd thought of it myself. No matter, I'm going to implement it anyway.' Taking his quill, he rose abruptly from his desk and walked lightly to where Ferdi sat, touching the quill to each of Ferdi's shoulders in turn for all the world like a king conferring knighthood. 'I dub thee... Master of the Tournament. Rise, Sir Ferdi.'  
  
'Don't be daft,' Ferdibrand said, annoyed, but also pleased. 'If you think I can do this...'  
  
'Don't be daft,' Pippin echoed. 'It's what you've been training for, all these years, and the archers will respect you and honour your judgment.'  
  
'Very well,' Ferdi agreed. He grinned. With the honorarium due the Master of the Tournament, he could buy Pimpernel a very nice wedding gift, indeed.  
  
***  
  
The time before the wedding seemed to speed and crawl by turns. Pippin kept Ferdi very busy, once he was able to ride again, even after Tolly won the tournament and became head of escort. Pippin took Ferdi everywhere he went.  
  
'Quite convenient, to be able to take my memory along with me,' he commented.  
  
'_My_ memory,' Ferdi corrected.  
  
'Same thing,' Pippin said serenely. 'You don't know what a load you have taken off my mind, cousin. Sometimes I was so busy filing away facts to remember later, I forgot to listen to what was being said.' He sobered. 'Don't ever let anything happen to you,' he said. 'I'd have to step down as Thain if I lost my memory!'  
  
'You'd muddle through somehow,' Ferdi said. 'You always do.'  
  
They rode on in silence, before Pippin spoke again. 'Whom have you asked to stand with you at the wedding?'  
  
Ferdi shook his head. 'I'm still giving it serious consideration,' he said. 'It would not be so hard if I could ask more than one, but...'  
  
'Why not?' Pippin said whimsically.  
  
'Pip!' Ferdi remonstrated, shocked. 'You know that tradition says...'  
  
'You and your tradition,' Pippin retorted. 'Were we to stand on tradition there wouldn't even be a wedding, in this case!'  
  
Ferdi rode on in silence. Finally, he said, 'You have the right of it, cousin.' He sighed. 'There's a load off my mind.'  
  
'And a good thing, too,' Pippin said stoutly. 'I count on that mind of yours, you know.'  
  
That evening after teatime was over, and before the children were put to bed, Pimpernel said, 'Gather round, chicks! There's something Ferdi has to say to you.'  
  
Ferdi cleared his throat as all eyes turned to him. He crouched to be on their level, and spoke. 'You know that Rudivacar will always be your father,' he began. Five little heads nodded; the sixth and littlest waved his fist and crowed. 'I hope that--someday--you might be able to call me your da,' he said.  
  
'Ferdi-da?' little Mignonette said.  
  
Ferdi smiled. 'That'll do,' he said softly. Looking at each in turn, he went on. 'I have to choose someone to stand with me at the wedding, you know.' They nodded again. 'Do you know what that means?'  
  
'It's your best friend, someone you know and trust,' Rudivar volunteered.  
  
'Someone to fetch the bride, and sit her down at the wedding breakfast, and then come to get you and sit you down beside her,' Odovar added.  
  
'And make the toast!' Fredevar said.  
  
'Someone to walk with you to the wedding ceremony, and take the bride's hand from her father's, and put it in yours,' Mignonette said.  
  
'...and dance the bride from her father to her new husband!' Cori chimed in.  
  
Ferdi nodded. 'You have the right of it,' he said. 'I take it you have been paying attention at weddings.' There was a chorus of assent, and he smiled, glancing up at Pimpernel and back to the children. 'I want to ask you all a great favour...' he said.  
  
'What is it?' Rudivar asked, while the rest nodded.  
  
'I would like you all to stand up with me at the wedding. D'you think you might do that for me?'  
  
There was a breathless silence, and then five little ones launched themselves at him, nearly knocking him over in their enthusiasm, whilst the sixth and littlest pushed against his mother to get down.  
  
'I take it that is a "yes",' Pimpernel smiled.  
  
'Yes!' the little Bolgers chorused, and Ferdibrand laughed in sheer delight.  
  
And that is what the little Bolgers did.  
  
***  
  
In the midst of the celebration, at the height of the dancing, the newly-wedded couple slipped from the pavilion through a loose flap. Reginard started after them, but Pippin caught at his arm. 'Let them go,' he said quietly.  
  
'But...' Regi protested.  
  
Pippin's nod was firm. 'Ferdi has a strong sense of duty, they'll be back,' he said. 'It must be important or he wouldn't have slipped away.'  
  
'Well...' Regi vacillated.  
  
'No one is going to notice their absence, any road,' the Thain said, indicating the dancers, the music, the feasting, the laughter. 'So let them go.'  
  
'You're the Thain,' Regi said dubiously.  
  
Pippin smiled. 'I knew it would be good for something, sometime,' he said.  
  
Ferdi led Pimpernel away from the pavilion, into the relative silence beneath the stars.  
  
'I have your wedding present,' he said, with a sweeping gesture that encompassed the breadth of the sky.  
  
'The moon? The stars?' she laughed.  
  
'Nothing less for my Nell, my own,' he said, kissing the upturned face.  
  
'A grand gift, indeed,' she said softly, when the kiss ended.  
  
'Ah, but I had a little something else, come to think of it,' Ferdi said, digging in a pocket.  
  
'Yes?' Pimpernel said, then gasped as something sparkled in the moonlight.  
  
'The Thain helped me to get this; he has friends in far places. An elf-jewel set in dwarf-silver, for the loveliest hobbit-lady in the Shire...' he clasped the necklace around her throat and stepped back to make a sweeping bow. 'My lady,' he said.  
  
'Funny, I'd heard Estella Brandybuck was the loveliest in the Shire,' Pimpernel said lightly, to hide the tears that threatened.  
  
'She doesn't hold a candle to you,' Ferdi said softly. 'My love for you is the flame of a star, burning constantly in the heavens, never to go out.'  
  
'The hunter has the heart of a poet,' Pimpernel whispered.  
  
'The hunter has no heart at all, he lost it to his lady-love years ago,' Ferdi answered.  
  
'O but he does,' Pimpernel whispered, a crystal tear upon her cheek. 'Mine. My own.'  
  
There seemed to be nothing more to say, and so they kissed once more, and entwining their fingers together, walked slowly back to the feast.


End file.
